The Trip
by Bears Eat Beets
Summary: Bears Eat Beets gets epically epic and takes the Scranton branch down to Orlando and the home of THE Mouse. Rated T for Tink won't know what hit her. Finally...amazingly...sadly...COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Before I say anything else, for my own ass's good I'm stating that I do _not_ own not only The Office but _anything _related in _any way _to Disney; this includes but isn't limited to their subsidiaries, vacation locales (or anything contained therein), music, movies, and characters. This story is only meant to entertain and bring together my two greatest non-living loves in life - the wacky kids of Dunder Mifflin's Scranton branch and Walt Disney World. For God's sakes, _please _don't sue me. I have very little money and if you take it I can't spend it on those two aforementioned loves...and believe me, that's where a lot of it goes (especially to you, Disney). We good? Cool.**

Oh man, so I have been planning this damn story forever, so I hope you're ready to buckle in for the ride. Heartfelt thanks go out to ktface3, "The Fo Sho Kate," and Cousin Mose, who have all either given me great ideas and/or encouraged me to just get on with this freaking thing already.

And with all that out of the way, let's get it started...in here.

* * *

Michael: (_grinning widely_) Michael Scott, you just won the title for world's most awesome boss by scoring your employees a free trip to Disney World! What are you going to do? (_He inserts his own pregnant pause._) I'm going to _Disney World!_

* * *

Oscar: Michael had a real flash of brilliance. (_He raises his eyebrows._) Yes, I know it sounds…unlikely, but here's what happened. Michael was watching TV here one day – I think it was _Oprah _– and he was wondering how she could afford to buy enough of whatever she was talking about for the entire audience. Obviously Oprah _could _afford that if she had to, but it led to us trying to explain product placement and "free" advertising. It went on a _long _time, and we just assumed he didn't get it.

(_Oscar shakes his head in disbelief._) But he actually _did_.

(_Oscar's voice is now heard over a montage of clips of Michael typing on his computer, looking through mail, and on the phone._) He knows wherever we go you guys – I mean, the cameras – follow. So Michael sent out letters to some big-name vacation destinations and informed them he could bring them great media attention if they gave us a free vacation. Most turned him down – he was pretty upset about Sandals saying no –

* * *

Michael: (_looking disgusted_) They said I'd already given them more than enough free publicity. They're dead to me now.

* * *

Oscar: (_his voice-over continues, as does the montage_) – but the Disney people were apparently interested. In exchange for Dunder Mifflin becoming the sole suppliers of the ABC affiliate in Scranton/Wilkes-Barre – channel 16, WNEP – at a discount, they finally agreed to a four day, five night vacation for everyone here at the Walt Disney World resort. That includes park tickets, lodging, and one meal a day. (_The montage ends with Michael dancing around his office; 'Zip A Dee Do Da' can be faintly heard in the background._)

(_The shot cuts back to Oscar._) A free vacation and a huge sale. We found out a week ago and…I've got to say, I'm still in shock he pulled this off.

* * *

Michael: I'm very excited for our Disney trip. First things first (_he leans in, looking nervous_) I need to make amends with a certain cartoon mouse for the way he was pornographically portrayed last year in that watermark. I know I said I wasn't a fan but come on, I _love_ Mickey! Who doesn't? No one wants to see him being…uh…by a duck. That's sick. (_Michael leans back again, smiling._) But I know the trip'll be great. I think it'll really give us an opportunity to bond even more as an office family, to cut loose and relax. I've really worked hard planning each day to make sure it's…(_he waves his hands vaguely_) magical.

* * *

Pam: (_with pursed lips and a slow nod_) Yes, Michael worked very hard planning the trip…if by _Michael _you mean _Pam. _(_She sighs, then smiles._) I'm still pretty excited, though. It should be fun. Jim and I have been saving up to take a vacation, so now we can just use some of that for spending money. (_She cocks her head, her grin widening._) Well, _I _can. I can't see Jim spending much in Disney World.

* * *

Jim: Yeah, I think the Disney trip will be fun. Pam and I will get to spend one of our last weeks together before she leaves for Pratt somewhere _other _than here – that's definitely good. (_Jim leans forward slightly_.) After what happened at Toby's party two weeks ago (_he winces just a little_) I'm _really _looking at our trip as a chance to propose. Since my girlfriend planned the whole thing I know where we'll be everyday. I've been doing my own research. (_He holds up several pages and smiles_.) I've got a proposal plan for every day. _Three _for our last day, as a matter of fact. I can't see anyone else popping the question again, but in this office it's better to be safe than sorry.

* * *

Michael emerged from his office holding a turquoise shirt and smiling proudly. "Can I have your attention? I have a surprise! It looked like these wouldn't make it before we leave tomorrow, but our shirts came in!"

"What shirts?" Pam asked.

"I got all of us matching shirts to wear for the trip!"

"Omigod, what color are they? Because I _refuse _to wear yellow," Kelly stated worriedly.

"There are all different colors, Kelly. Check it out." Michael first displayed the front of the shirt. '**DUNDER MIFFLIN DISNEY ADVENTURE '08**' was writ large across the front. With a giggle he flipped the shirt around. '**WE KNOW OUR SHEET!**' the back proclaimed in even larger letters. Pam and Jim exchanged a look while Andy chuckled.

"Classic," he ruled.

"Michael, I am _not _wearing that," Angela said flatly, folding her arms.

"First off, why? And secondly, yes you are - I order six in kids' sizes just for you," Michael replied, cutting off Angela's explanation. She frowned and looked to Holly, who had been standing at the copy machine.

"Can I take this up with HR?" she asked.

"Um," Holly replied quietly, before turning and heading back to the annex.

* * *

Holly: (_attempting to look nonplussed_) Um, no, I'm actually not going on the trip. Michael had counted Toby in his original number, but I guess he didn't think another HR rep would be replacing him so he promised his trip to Darryl. Apparently Kelly…got very upset when she heard he couldn't go.

* * *

Kelly: (_happily_) Oh yeah, I _totally _threw a fit. I told Michael I'd, like, not only not go but, like, kill myself right there in his office if he didn't give Darryl Toby's trip. (_She bounces in her chair_.) I can't wait! And I'm _so _glad that Darryl's the boyfriend I get to go with and not, like, anyone else.

* * *

Darryl: (_shrugs_) I know my daughter'd have fun, but I'd be just as happy to stay here, honestly.

* * *

As the day drew to a close, Kelly approached Oscar in Accounting. "Hi Oscar," she greeted.

"Hey Kelly." They were quiet a moment. "Um, do you need something?"

"I was just wondering if you, like, wanted me to do your shirts too, while I'm doing mine," she said, raising the pile of t-shirts in her arms.

Oscar frowned. "'Do' my shirts?"

Kelly nodded. "Yeah, you know – like, decorate them. Make them cute. Cut them up. Add some bling. Whatev." Kevin snickered but she continued. "These plain shirts are gross. I totally couldn't bear wearing them."

"I'm actually fine, thanks."

Kelly shrugged. "Okay." She started to walk away, then turned. "Oscar?" He looked at her. "If you change your mind, just call me," she said in a stage whisper, then winked.

* * *

Oscar: I've already got the Finer Things Club and sex with men. (_He shakes his head._) Wearing shirts bedazzled by Kelly is where I draw the gay line.

* * *

Ryan: (_an extreme close-up of his face, awash in disbelief) _Scranton's going to Disney World. You_ honestly_ think my most pressing concern is not going to a theme park with them? (_The shot widens; we see he is wearing an orange jumpsuit and is handcuffed, seated in what is clearly a visiting room in a correctional facility. A bald, bearded and tattooed man easily 100 pounds heavier and a foot taller than Ryan is watching this scene with interest. Ryan glances at him, then back at the camera. He sighs._) I think we're done here.

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **_M-I-C..._("C" that review button? Go on, click it!) _K-E-Y..._("Y"? Because it'd be awesome of you!) _M-O-U-S-Eee..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: All the legal-y mumbo jumbo from the first chapter.**

As this story progresses I've decided to add what I think is a cool extra, multimedia-esque element - if you head on over to my profile, you'll find some links to all sorts of things I've "created" that relate to this story, and as this goes on I'll add more and more. It's a truly sad sign of how nerdy I've become. Please let me know if you like it. For now check out Michael's gift shirts and two other surprises...

Also, I've once again followed in the unfillable footsteps of the great HalloweenJack138 and am trying to help him secure what he feels is his legacy - that is, the creative usage of Jim as a verb, common noun, adjective...maybe even a dangling participle. Who knows.

* * *

The next morning was a sunny one, and the Scranton branch – for once – looked relatively happy as they stood in the parking lot, all in their surprise shirts and surrounded by luggage. True to what she'd mentioned the day before, Kelly was wearing a much-altered bubble gum pink version of the shirt; shortened (both in the sleeves and the torso) and with a deep V cut into its neckline. It was also bejeweled to the point that the bright sunshine put one's future vision in serious jeopardy if he happened to look her way. The only face missing among the crowd was the one belonging to their boss.

"When do you think Michael will get here?" Pam asked as she tucked a curl behind her ear. Jim shrugged.

"No idea. Do you think we're taking another 'party bus' to the airport?"

"We're taking a party bus?" Meredith asked, hurrying over. Jim's eyes widened.

"No. I mean, maybe. I was just…hey! Dwight!" he interrupted himself, calling out to his deskmate who was strolling by. Dwight stopped and looked up from his clipboard.

"What?"

"Do you know when Michael's gonna get here?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, I think everyone's getting a little sick of standing out here and we'd like to know what the plan is."

"You mean _you _don't know what the plan is?"

"Why would I?"

Dwight arched an eyebrow and started to grin. "As Michael's number two _you_ should be privy to that sort of information, shouldn't you?" he goaded.

"As Michael's best friend _you_ should know where he is."

Dwight's glib smile turned slightly worried. "That's true."

"So where is he?"

A long pause. "I don't know."

Jim gave the camera a happy jim, but he and Dwight both learned Michael's location together, because at that moment he came tearing into the parking lot. He stepped out of his car and smiled.

"You guys all waited out here for me?" he asked. He received several nods and grinned at the camera. "What a warm welcome! Gotta love being loved. Well," he started, clapping his hands, "are we ready for vacation or what?" A semi-enthusiastic cheer answered him. "Me too! I can't wait to leave - only…five hours to go!" he said, checking his new watch, then displaying it for the camera. "Mickey, of course. Only appropriate."

There was a long silence. "What do you mean, 'only five hours'?" Oscar finally asked.

"The bus'll be here at two. Our flight leaves at four."

"Why did you tell us to come at the regular time?" Phyllis wondered.

"Yeah, what are we supposed to do til two?" Kevin asked. Dwight glared at him.

"Work, of course."

"Oh hell no," Stanley muttered. Michael chuckled and pointed.

"Will Smith! Good one, Stanley the Manly," he congratulated him. Stanley gave him a look and headed toward his car. "Wait, where are you-"

"I'll be back at two."

"But until then-"

"_Two._"

Michael looked flustered for a moment then forced another smile. "No biggie. I think he requested this morning off anyway. See ya, buddy!" he called, and was answered by Stanley's car door slamming. Michael pointed toward the door. "All right, party people, let's go!" He headed inside.

"You heard Michael: inside, _now_," Dwight added unnecessarily, waving his clipboard in a herding fashion.

* * *

Dwight: (_in the hallway, in front of the elevator_) Although I hear they have an entertaining Star Wars ride, Disney World wouldn't be my first choice of vacation destinations. First would obviously be Deutschland – that's Germany to you – followed very closely by New Zealand, where I would take the Lord of the Rings tour. If I had to pick somewhere in Florida, it would be Universal Studios. But not until the Harry Potter attractions open next year. (_Dwight leans in, holding up his clipboard._) I'm not going on this trip for fun, anyway. Michael will need someone to keep track of important details and ride herd on these…people. Sure, Jim _should _be doing it, but everyone knows how well _he _handles responsibility. (_He pauses, then shakes his head._) Not well at _all_.

* * *

Jim, Pam, Darryl and Kelly were the only ones left in the parking lot. All four stared at the luggage the rest of their coworkers had left behind. Jim looked to Darryl.

"Is it okay if we put this stuff in the warehouse for now?"

Darryl nodded. "That's cool." He grabbed the two closest suitcases. Kelly kissed Darryl's cheek.

"Awesome! Bye honey!" she chirped, then bounced off. She spun at the door. "Just be careful with the smallish one," she instructed, pointing. "That one has all, like, my most important stuff in it."

"What the hell's in the other six, then?" Darryl muttered. Jim bent to pick up a camouflage bag and nearly fell over. He frowned at the offending duffel.

* * *

Jim: (_in the parking lot_) I've never been totally sure what the TSA people may or may not find suspicious when they check your bags. (_He raises his eyebrows_.) But I'm pretty sure if they opened Dwight's duffel bag they'd be more than suspicious about _all_ of it. As I'd like to actually be _allowed_ to get on the plane, I hid that bag in the warehouse.

* * *

Five hours passed less quickly than usual – in other words, agonizingly slowly. The long wait was ended by an excited cry from Michael.

"The bus is here!"

Just then Stanley entered, carrying a McDonald's cup. "Just in time," greeted Jim from his usual stance at Reception.

"Oh good," Stanley replied drily.

* * *

Stanley: It's a free vacation, _and _I'm gettin' paid. You don't pass on that. Even if Michael is going, too.

* * *

"To the bus!" Michael directed, then jogged out the door. Everyone began heading the same way. Andy had his arm tightly around Angela, which she appeared none too happy about. Jim caught Dwight watching them.

"Nice shorts, Andy," he said, nodding toward the bright, plaid bottoms his coworker wore. The tiniest of smiles snuck onto Dwight's face.

"Thanks Tuna. Had to run out and buy a few new pairs to match the shirts but, you know, gotta be stylin'. Make the little lady proud." He smiled and squeezed Angela even tighter. She, in turn, scowled harder. He tried not to notice as he tipped his sunglasses off his head and over his eyes.

"Nice shades too," Jim added. Andy nodded.

"Thank you again, sir."

"Big _Top Gun_ fan?"

"Abso-fuuu…riggin-lutely," Andy corrected himself mid-word, glancing at Angela nervously. Her scowl stayed firmly in place.

* * *

Andy: Yes, I have been to Disney World before. My acapella group, Here Comes Treble, went to the national finals there my sophomore year at Cornell. It was fun - and we took ninth place, by the way. (_He looks impressed with himself._) I think this trip'll be great too – kind of like a pre-honeymoon for Angela and I. (_His jaw clenches slightly._) Granted we're not rooming together…

* * *

Angela: No, I am not sharing a room with Andy, and yes, that _is _by choice. (_She sits up a little straighter._) I don't care what Jim and Pam do. It's inappropriate. (_Angela fiddles with the end of her ponytail._)

* * *

"Let's go, ladies! Move it!" Dwight was instructing at the front of the bus, while Darryl, Kevin, Jim and the bus driver finished loading the luggage into the storage area. Michael stood off to the side with Holly.

"I hope you guys have a great time," she said.

"Oh we will." Michael took a step closer. "Look, I'm really sorry I gave away your trip to Darryl. I tried to get one more package for you but they were like Nazis about it."

"Oh it's fine, don't worry about it." Holly attempted a smile.

"Why don't you just take the rest of the week off and come down anyway?" he suggested.

"Um, that probably wouldn't be a good idea – I mean, I just started here a couple weeks ago."

Michael sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked at her for a moment. "Well, you'll be missed. By me- and, y'know, everyone. All of us."

Holly smiled again, this time genuinely. "Thanks. I'll miss you too." A pause. "All of you."

"I'll bring you back a souvenir – maybe some Mickey ears?"

Holly nodded. "That'd be great."

"Okay."

"We're all set, Michael," Jim called from the bus door.

"You'd better go," Holly said, folding her arms. Michael nodded.

"Yep." He walked to the bus, but turned to her again when he reached the door. "And hey, if you change your mind, you know where we'll be."

"I do. Have a safe trip."

Michael gave her one last smile and boarded the bus. Moments later the door shut and the engine rumbled to life. Holly waved as the bus slowly pulled out of the parking lot. She sighed, flashed a quick look at the camera, then headed back into the office.

* * *

**A/N II: **Yes, I promise they will eventually _go _on the trip.

_Be my guest, be my guest!  
Put that review button to the test -  
Leave a word, a little blurb, my friends,  
And I'll provide the rest!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Legal rear covering from Chapter One.**

Two notes up front - One, I once again I pay homage to Mr. 138 with my Jim usage. Two, nothing is more awesome than Jim walking out of a talking head.

More at the end of the chapter.

* * *

"Know what I think it's time for?"

"What, Michael?" Dwight asked eagerly from his seat next to him on the bus.

Michael waited a long minute for more of a response but got none. He frowned momentarily before a toothy grin tackled his face again. "An old-fashioned bus trip sing-along!"

"Yeah!" Dwight agreed heartily.

The rest of his employees added their silence as response.

"Come on, guys, we did it last time – beach day, remember?" Michael prompted them.

"What do you want to sing?" Phyllis asked kindly.

"Oh, um, whatever," Michael answered, looking taken off-guard. A second later he clapped. "I got it, I got it: _It's a world of laughter, a world of tears-_"

"_NO!_" was the bus's improvised next lyric.

Michael frowned again. So did Dwight.

"I don't get it," he said, leaning toward Michael. Michael looked at him with equal parts disbelief and disgust.

"How can you not…? Ugh. Idiot," he muttered.

* * *

Dwight: (_outside the airport, looking confused_) Seriously…what song _was _that?

* * *

Dwight stared into the empty cargo hold of the bus in frustration as the last bags were loaded onto a luggage trolley. "I'm missing a bag," he reported, then glared at Jim. "Where is it?"

"What?" Jim asked.

"My camouflage duffel bag."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do – it was out in the parking lot with everyone else's bags this morning."

"So?"

"So, _you_ moved all those bags. _You_ must know where it is."

Jim nodded. "It seems that way."

"So where is it?" Dwight pressed impatiently.

"No clue."

"_Jim_…"

"What was in it, Dwight?" Pam asked.

"Not relevant, Pamela." He turned back to Jim. "Where is it?"

"It is…not here."

"I know where it _isn't_. But where _is _it?" Dwight fumed.

"Somewhere other than here?" Jim guessed, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes."

"Okay then."

"What?"

"Mystery solved." Jim jimmed for the camera, then headed into the airport with Pam before Dwight could reply. Dwight did what could best be described as a perfect impression of a suffocating fish before he stomped off after them.

* * *

Jim: (_standing near the ticket counter,_ _grinning impishly_) You'd think I'd get sick of it after a certain point, wouldn't you? (_Jim shakes his head as he walks out of the shot_.)

* * *

Kevin was nodding slowly. "Nice," he ruled. He turned the page of _Maxim's_ Hot 100 issue. "So hot. Also hot." He turned the page again. "Oh man," he breathed. A sigh issued from the airline seat next to him.

"You realize they're _all _'hot,' right? That's the point – it's the 'Hot 100,'" Oscar stated flatly.

"I like agreeing." Oscar sighed and attempted to return his attention to his copy of _The New Yorker_. Kevin turned the page yet again. "Oh _man_. Hottest yet."

"Why are you reading that, anyway? Didn't it come out months ago?"

"So? Jealous?" Kevin asked, chuckling.

"Hardly."

"Right." They were quiet a moment, then Kevin tore a page from his magazine and handed it to Oscar. Oscar glanced at the page – a half-dressed male model advertising God only knew what stared up at him lustily. Oscar gave Kevin a blank stare. "You can keep that," Kevin assured him, grinning.

Oscar sighed again.

* * *

An hour later and three rows up Pam shook her head in wonder. "What?" Jim asked, removing one of his earbuds.

"This book is…_terrible_," she mused, sounding almost pleased.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing." Pam shifted as much as a seat on an airplane allowed.

"Nothing _is _pretty bad, I agree." Jim grabbed for the book before Pam could react. "What's with the cover? Did you win it at bingo?"

"My _mom _made that!" she cried, laughing and reaching for her stolen read.

"Are you reading some trashy romance novel?" Jim pulled off the fabric cover and a huge smile lit up his features. "Wow, Beesly, _really_?"

"Shut up – give it back!" she hissed.

"Flowers in the Attic? I never pegged you as an incest fan, Pam."

"That's only at the very end. Give it back," she pleaded, glancing around nervously.

"Please tell me you didn't pay full price for this," he said, laughing. Pam shushed him again, then pouted. Jim handed the book back, still chuckling.

"I bought it at the Goodwill last week. I wanted to see if it was as bad as I remembered," she explained with as much dignity as she could muster as she hurriedly replaced the fabric cover.

"Sure."

Jim was still grinning when Pam stared at his removed earbud in confusion. "Are you listening to George Michael?"

Jim's eyes widened momentarily as he fumbled with his iPod. Before he could change the song Pam popped the bud in her ear. Her mouth formed a delighted O which she shared with the camera. Jim glanced that way too and clicked the wheel on the device. "It's a vacation playlist," he explained, his tone mirroring her pathetic one from a moment earlier as he took the bud from her ear.

"Uh huh," she agreed lightly, returning to her book.

"You're supposed to put a few guilty pleasure songs on it."

"Sure."

"It's a rule, Beesly. Look it up."

"Oh I will."

"In your incest book?" He grinned at her, then the camera.

"I hate you," she said, looking at neither him nor the camera.

* * *

"We made it!" Michael announced to the camera near the luggage carousel, holding his arms wide. "Beautiful, sunny Orlando, Florida: a great place to escape snowy Scranton!"

"There's no snow in Scranton right now, Michael," Dwight pointed out, eyeing his boss momentarily before returning to his intense watch over the rotating luggage.

"I know that."

"It's almost June."

"Yes, Dwight, I _know_."

"It was almost eighty-five degrees today-"

"Will you shut up? God, you are so annoying--" Michael spat before starting to point. "That's one of mine," he added, pointing at a blue suitcase.

"Got it," Dwight replied, shoving a few travelers out of his way.

A few feet away Phyllis was on her cell phone. "Okay, Bobby. Just wanted you to know we made it here safe. I'll call you later." Phyllis listened for a moment, then smiled and nodded. "I love you too. Bye bye." She closed her phone and shared her smile with Pam. "Bob Vance. He wanted to make sure we got down here okay."

"That's sweet," Pam replied, grinning too.

"You and Jim will be the same way when you're married one day." Phyllis patted Pam's arm and stepped closer to the carousel. Pam's smile wilted noticeably as her eyes darted toward Jim, who was standing with Kevin at the carousel. She then caught the camera watching her, reached up to finger her necklace and quickly went off to join him.

* * *

Phyllis: (_standing in front of one of the airport's huge windows, her head cocked to the right_) Of course I was sad Bob Vance couldn't come – if it wasn't such a busy time of year he would have taken the week off. He gave me the name of the store he bought my perfume from, though, so I really hope I can get up there. I'm almost out. (_Phyllis smiles more suggestively than one would've thought she could._) Bobby _really _likes that scent.

* * *

As the Scranton travelers grabbed the last of their bags, Michael pointed at a short brunette in Rivers Cuomo-esque glasses and a black polo emblazoned with Mickey Mouse. She was smiling and holding a large sign reading '**WELCOME DUNDER MIFFLIN EMPLOYEES!**' "Troops! Over here!" Michael called out, jogging over to the young woman.

"Hi there! I take it you're from Dunder Mifflin Scranton?" she guessed, lowering her sign. Michael nodded.

"Yes indeedy! And you must be our escort?"

"I am!"

"You look like you'll guarantee us a good time – aaand that's what she said," Michael replied, chuckling. Kevin snickered too as Pam and Jim gave the camera matching looks. To her credit the woman only blinked.

"Um, yes! I'm Judy, and on behalf of the Walt Disney World Resort let me be the first to welcome you!" she greeted the group, managing to keep her smile. She was greeted in turn with a few hello's and hey's.

"Well, I am Michael Scott, and on behalf of Dunder Mifflin Scranton let me be the first to welcome you to the coolest gee-dee group of people you'll ever meet," he said, regally gesturing to his employees. Judy's eyes widened slightly, but she only nodded.

"Well, thank you. Very much. I'll be serving as your guide and liaison for your trip, so whatever you need, any questions you may have, just find me and I'll be glad to help."

"Okay, great – hey, I have a question…found ya!" Michael cried, grabbing Judy by the shoulders. The camera caught Jim shaking his head slowly. Judy looked at Michael nervously but covered her loss of composure with a forced laugh.

"Uh, okay, what's your question?" she asked, casually attempting to take a step away from him. Michael's smile faltered.

"I didn't really…I was just…it was a joke," he finished in a mumble. Judy eyed him for a long moment then turned to the rest of the group.

"Okay then…well, are you ready to board the Magical Express and get checked in at your resort?" she asked, eyebrows raised. The Scranton branch responded with rare genuine enthusiasm and she found her smile again. Michael glanced at the camera in surprise. "Excellent! Then follow me!" She turned and started down the corridor.

Michael was giving the group an angry, slightly hurt once-over, but quickly cleared it away with a shake of his head. "Follow us!" he said, then caught up with Judy. "You really got them pumped up," he said to her.

"Well, it's hard _not _to get excited when you're going to Disney World – at least that's how _I've _always felt," she stated cheerfully.

Michael flashed a dubious glance camera-ward before looking at Judy again. "Yeah, well, maybe. Don't get too used to it – they were just being nice," he told her.

"Oh."

"I mean, they _never _respond to me like that," he added.

Judy flashed her own look at the camera. "Huh," she said diplomatically.

* * *

Michael: (_standing with his arms folded in front of a bus with __**Disney's Magical Express **__printed along its side_) Oh sure, Judy's nice enough. She seems a bit young to be in charge. Kind of dorky-looking. Not much of a leader. I mean, yeah, everyone was nice to her and listened, but I think they just feel bad for her. Want to make her feel included. (_Michael shrugged._) I'm not sure we even _need _a guide; I know plenty about Disney World. Captain EO, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea – I know all the best rides.

* * *

Dwight: (_seated in the front of the bus, one eyebrow raised_) Judy said come to her with any questions we had and she'd have answers. Naturally I asked where Walt Disney's cryogenically-frozen head was stored. She said that was an "urban legend." (_He shook his head smugly._) Didn't take long to discredit _her_.

* * *

The Scranton branch was assembled in the lobby of Disney's Pop Century resort, most studying the framed collages of pop culture items from various decades hung along the walls. Judy was finishing a discussion with a clerk at the front desk. Soon enough she came jogging back over. "Okay, we're all set to head to your rooms," she announced. "You'll be staying in the 60's section of the resort, which is just out this door – a nice short walk to hop on a bus to the parks in the morning." She grinned as she got a few cheers. Michael scowled. "These are your room keys, but they're also your park passes so keep a tight hold on them – otherwise we kick you out," she joked, getting a lighthearted chuckle out of the group.

"All right, calm down. It wasn't that funny," Michael stated.

Judy glanced at him a moment. "So, I'm going to call off your names for you and you can come get your cards, so listen up," she instructed, then began her roll call. Jim nudged Creed.

"The 60's section - that's gotta be pretty cool for you," he said with a smile. Creed looked around at the somewhat kitschy décor critically before shaking his head.

"Ace, they won't even get _close_ to having it right," he replied matter-of-factly.

* * *

Creed: (_standing outside the 60's wing; the shot pans the building, where the words "Groovy," "Tye Dye," and "Peace Man" can all be seen decorating the exterior. The shot then zooms in on Creed, who looks bemused._) Not even _close_. Know what phrase _should _be up there? "Tune in. Turn on. Drop out." (_He nods all-too-knowingly._)

* * *

"All right, Dunder Mifflin, these are your rooms, all along this stretch," Judy said, gesturing. "You all have your room numbers and your 'keys,' so you're all set for the night. Now, the food court here is open til midnight, and Petals Pool Bar is open til then too, should anyone need a…how should we say, adult beverage after all that travelling?"

"Thank _God_," Meredith breathed. Angela shot her a dirty look. "Oh can it, _Angela_, I'm on vacation."

"Like _that _makes a difference," Angela muttered.

"Okay, does anyone have any questions before I leave you be for the night?" Judy asked.

"Ha!" Dwight scoffed. Judy's head whipped around. "Not for you I don't," he declared, making a face. Michael wore a proud look.

"Just ignore him," murmured Pam, who was standing next to her. Judy put on a smile.

"I'll see you all tomorrow at breakfast then – have a good night!" she said with a wave. A few put their hands up to wave back but Michael shook his head.

"Enough! God! You guys are _obsessed _with her!" he cried.

"I'm not, Michael – Judy is clearly an idiot trying to upstage you," Dwight stated loyally. Michael smiled halfheartedly.

"Thank you, Dwight." He turned to the rest of his employees. "Now, are you guys all set? Any questions? Jim?"

Jim shook his head. "If I didn't have any questions for our guide, why would I have any questions for you?" he wondered.

"You wanted to save them for someone in the know, obviously," Michael answered, glancing at the camera and mouthing 'duh.' Jim looked as if he were about to argue, then just shook his head. "You sure you're good?" Jim nodded, which went unnoticed by Michael as he added, "That's what she said. So you guys wanna go get a drink by the bar? Kick off the trip in style?"

"Yes," Meredith answered before he could finish his question.

Michael looked less than thrilled but shrugged. "Okay, there's one. Any other takers?"

"I'll join you, Michael," Dwight assured him.

"Right here, Michael," Andy seconded, then looked at Angela. "Honey? Mind if I get a drink?" Angela replied with her patented cocked eyebrow. Andy sighed. "Guess so. Looks like I'm passing. Let me carry your stuff to _your _room." Andy couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. Dwight smothered a smile as the two walked away.

"Jim? Pam?" Michael asked, smiling hopefully.

"I think we're going to go unpack, then maybe eat," Pam replied. Michael chuckled.

"Right, unpack - more like un…dress."

"Yikes," Jim said, glancing at the camera as he picked up their bags. "See you guys in the morning."

"Really? Okay…Stankley? Cocktail?" Michael turned to Stanley, who was already heading down the sidewalk.

"Good night," Stanley said in response.

"I should go too," Oscar tossed out quickly, following his roommate.

"Where's Darryl?" Michael asked. "And Creed?"

No one had an answer for Creed, which seemed to alarm no one.

"Darryl went to put our bags in the room. It's gonna take a couple trips. Tell him I went to the gift shop, okay?" Kelly requested as she trotted off.

"I'll meet you there," Phyllis offered. "Let me just put my bags away." Kelly turned back and gave her a nod before resuming her journey.

"I'll walk with you. I need to get some food," Kevin told Phyllis. They too left.

Michael looked at those remaining, and the disappointment was painfully obvious as he took in that it was only Dwight and Meredith. "All right, come on," he conceded, noticeably dragging his feet as he headed for the bar.

* * *

(_The camera sneaks up on Judy, who is standing under one of the stairways, smoking a cigarette. When she notices the camera, she quickly hides her hand behind her back._)

Judy: I'm not really supposed to uh…(_she nods over her shoulder_) while I'm on the job, you know…can you just cut this out? (_Someone must give her an affirmative answer off-camera because she visibly relaxes and takes a drag off her cigarette._) They seem…great. A really fun group. (_A long pause. Judy purses her lips and narrows her eyes._) You guys follow them all the time, right? Is Michael _always _like that? (_She listens to the producer's answer and she nods slowly._) Well. Should be an interesting week then, huh? (_She attempts to smile, but ends up taking deep drag instead._)

* * *

**A/N II:** This is the end of the set-up. I promise. Next chapter we hit the parks. (Finally, I know.)

I've added a few more bonus bits for this chapter; check out my profile for Pam's book cover and Jim's vacation playlist - Mr. Beets and I think it's fun for summer and very Jim (as I picture him, at least, and dammit it's my story). Another invaluable link I'll be including over there (that I by no means created but do so adore), is allears . net. That site is more amazing than words can say, and if you want to see/read more about _anything_ WDW that I reference in this story that is _the_ place to go, hands down. Please do check it out - I promise I make not one red cent saying that. I'm just obsessed with it.

Before I forget, all of your reviews have been...um..._wow_. The response to this bit of nonsense has been staggering. You're just silly, all of you - thanks so, so much. I think I've thanked you all personally, but all you anonymous reviewers - muchas gracias to you too. And with that I keep my fingers crossed that I haven't blown all that support with this chapter. Here's where I ask you to let me know, with a tactic that gets its own glowing reviews...

_When you review you are a star -  
Makes no difference who you are  
Your words for me, from near and far  
Are dreams come true..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: ditto the legal stuff from Chapter One, with a heavy emphasis on the "please don't sue me."**

Let's just say from here on out I'm always tipping my cap to 138, even though I don't wear a cap. Or a chapeau. Or any type of hat really. My head's ridiculously huge. I'm a sideshow freak. But you get the warm feelings behind the gesture I'm not actually doing, right?

More after this _long _chapter...

* * *

It was only supposed to be an early morning establishing shot, but as the cameraman panned over the wing of the resort where the Scranton branch had taken up residence for the week, Dwight Schrute was hard to miss. He stood in the shadow of the giant Duncan yo-yo sculpture outside the building, and the shot was shaky as the cameraman secretly jogged closer. As he did so Angela rounded the corner of the building. It was clear from her purposeful stride that it was far from chance that she was running into Dwight here.

"You look lovely this morning," Dwight told Angela, smiling.

"Thank you."

"I enjoy the censoring of your shirt."

Angela's back was to the camera - three strips of duct tape had been placed over the last word of the slogan, completely covering any and all trace of '**SHEET**.'

"Thank you," she said again, shifting her weight slightly. "We should be quick; the last thing we need is anyone _else_ seeing anything…suspicious."

"Monkey, I can't stand seeing you with that imbecile," Dwight stated matter-of-factly.

"I know. I'm…sorry." She turned a little; the discomfort she felt at uttering those two words was evident on her face.

"Break it off. Please."

"D, I can't do that. At least not here."

"But what about what we've been doing the past two weeks?"

Angela sighed. "It's wrong."

"It doesn't _feel_ wrong," he said. The creepiness of the phrase was dulled some by the tenderness in his voice, but the smile that spread across his face next was enough to make anyone uncomfortable. "And besides, you wouldn't have gone to the doctor and requested oral contraceptives if you didn't want it to happen again."

She gave him a long look. "That's wrong too. This is _all _wrong, Dwight."

"Monkey." It was soft and sweet, for Dwight. He took Angela's hand. "I will fight for your love again if I have to."

"What do you mean?"

"I will…I will engage Andrew Bernard in a competition for you."

Angela shook her head. "No, Dwight! I don't want him to find out about what we've…what I've…about anything that's happened."

"He won't. You have my word. He won't even know we're competing for you. Do I have your permission to challenge him?" he asked, looking at her beseechingly. A blush made its way up Angela's neck to her cheeks in the silence.

"You have my permission," she finally granted, then gently took her hand back. "I should go back to my room."

"All right. I'll see you at breakfast in a few hours."

Angela nodded and quickly walked back the way she came. Dwight watched her for a moment; once she had rounded the far corner he smiled triumphantly and pumped his fist in the air.

* * *

The Dunder Mifflin employees were just finishing breakfast as Judy stood to address them. "Okay, everyone – today we're going to visit Disney's Animal Kingdom. It's the latest park to be added to the Walt Disney World family, and it's a really cool wildlife-based experience-"

"So it's a zoo," Michael interrupted.

"Question: will I be able to observe any bears?" Dwight asked.

Judy smiled at both men. "Unfortunately, Dwight, we don't actually have bears. The animals at DAK, as we call it, are much more exotic."

"What a crap zoo," Michael muttered. "No _bears_? C'mon!"

"To call DAK a zoo is a common mistake," Judy explained gently, choosing to direct her words to the quieter employees at the table. "It _is_ a zoo, in a way, but it's also a theme park, a collection of amazing shows-"

"So a _fancy_ zoo," Michael amended, rolling his eyes at the camera. Judy opened her mouth to contradict him, but was again interrupted, this time by Dwight.

"Second question: does your zoo have gibbons?"

Judy nodded slowly. "There _are_ gibbons at DAK, along with several other types of monkeys."

Dwight shot a glance at Angela, who was studying her empty fruit bowl in earnest.

"Well thank God for monkeys – the zoo's not a _total_ bust, gang," Michael called out to the table, snickering. Judy took a deep breath.

"I think when you see it you'll agree it's far more than a zoo," she said in a patient tone most people reserved for bratty eight year olds. Michael was still laughing.

"Oh, okay, I'll just reverse judgment then," he replied in a dismissive tone. Judy glanced at the camera, then back at Michael.

"You know, Michael, if you don't think it's up your alley you can just stay here and I'll take everyone else to the park," she offered politely. Dwight slammed his hand on the table.

"Fact: we go _nowhere _without Michael!" he announced. Michael smirked.

"No thanks, _Judy_. I'll check out your fancy zoo. Even if I wasn't interested – and I'm not – I know the rest of my posse feels the same way Dwight does," he told their guide.

Jim gave a squinty-eyed smile to the camera, shaking his head subtly.

"Great, so, we'll _all_ go and check it out then," Judy said with tarnished cheerfulness. "Why don't we dump our trays and head out to the bus stop?" Before she could get a response Judy snatched her own trash up and hurried to the garbage can, then out the door.

* * *

(_Jim and Pam are standing near the cafeteria exit._)

Pam: We had a conversation once about what we'd do if we owned a time machine.

Jim: (_nodding_) We both agreed the first thing we'd do was go back to that day Abraham Lincoln decided to see _Our American Cousin _and advise him against it. I always felt bad that that happened when things had finally started looking up for him; I remember reading that he had been so happy those last few weeks. He had no clue what was coming. Plus to get shot at a place that was supposed to be fun…it just seems so wrong.

(_They exchange a look, then turn to the camera again._)

Pam: After we took care of that, I think our next mission would be to advise Judy to pass on this job.

* * *

A half hour later at the Animal Kingdom entrance, Judy was finishing an explanation of the not-to-miss attractions and the times she'd scheduled seating for the group at a few of the park's shows (ignoring Michael and Dwight's heckling rather impressively). She distributed maps to each person and told them the designated time to meet back at the bus pick-up. She offered to take anyone interested to check out the Kilimanjaro Safaris, and ended up leaving with everyone but Michael, Dwight, Andy and Angela. Michael glared at his turncoat employees.

"Traitors. They're all traitors," he declared, shaking his head. "I hope they get lost."

"I doubt they'll get lost travelling with a Disney-appointed guide," Angela commented icily. Michael gave her a withering look.

"Only because she has a _map_. Judy with her map is like Alex Trebek with his cards – you can always _pretend_ to be smart when the answers are on a piece of paper right in front of you," he said, then marched over to the nearest trash can, brandishing his map. "Well you know what? Screw maps. I don't need 'em," he said into the camera, tossing the offending item in the trash with a flourish. He turned back to the remaining three. "Come on, guys. Let's go." He started off down the main walkway. Andy started to follow but Dwight put a hand on his shoulder.

"I need to discuss something with you. A proposition." He looked to Angela. "Please walk a few steps ahead of us; this doesn't concern you," he told her sternly. Angela said nothing, but the corner of her mouth twitched once as she turned to follow Michael.

"What's up?" Andy asked as they too started down the same path.

"Fact: the undeserving Jim Halpert holds the title of Michael's number two," Dwight began.

"Well, yeah, but Big Tuna isn't so bad-"

"Fact: Michael has yet to assign the position of number _three _to anyone yet."

Andy frowned. "I didn't know there was a number three post."

"Well there is. And Michael informed me he has the candidates narrowed down to you and me."

"Really? When'd he tell you that?"

There was a pause. "On the bus."

"Oh. Okay. So how's he going to decide?"

"He will be issuing challenges to us throughout the trip to test our skills. We will compete in each of these…competitions, he will observe our individual performances, and at the end of the week he will announce the winner."

"Cool," Andy said, grinning. "How will we find out what the challenges are?"

Another pause. "Michael will tell me; I will then tell you."

"Why can't he tell us at the same time?" Andy wondered. Dwight looked at him angrily.

"Do _not_ question Michael's methods. He is our Regional Manager; he knows what he's doing."

"Right. Of course," Andy said quickly, "I was just-"

"It is also imperative that you _not _mention the competition with Michael in _any _way. He doesn't wish to discuss it until the end of the trip. Even if it seems like he isn't paying any attention to us, he is. Got it?" Dwight questioned. Andy nodded.

"Totally. Sounds good." He stuck his hand out. "May the best man win."

Dwight smiled. "Oh he will," he assured Andy as he firmly shook his hand.

* * *

Andy: (_standing in front of a souvenir stand, grinning_) Someone should tell Dwight this ended the minute it started. No one gets one over on Andrew Bernard.

* * *

Dwight: (_in front of a different souvenir stand, looking slightly guilty_) I'm sorry I had to involve Michael in my ruse – he is my boss and an honest man. But I'm sure he'd understand my motives. If there's one man that knows all about true love and the challenges it involves, it's Michael Scott. (_He raises his eyebrows._) Just look how long he put up with Jan.

* * *

As the jeep bounced over the bumpy manmade road through the simulated – but still impressive – African landscape, Pam laughed and grabbed the handrail a little tighter. Jim wrapped a protective arm around her, laughing too.

"Thanks," she said.

"Can't risk losing you to the black rhino," he replied.

"I appreciate that."

"Especially when there are hippos up ahead." Pam elbowed him, still giggling. "What? Hippos are responsible for a lot more deaths than you'd think, Beesly. I've always been curious to see how they take someone down."

"I love you too," Pam said as she raised her camera to snap a picture. Jim gave the camera a quick smirk, then looked back out on the scenery.

A few rows back Phyllis was taking her own picture. Afterward she glanced at Stanley, who was seated next to her, then looked into the camera. Grinning, she nodded toward him.

Surprisingly, he was wearing a bright smile. Even more surprisingly, it didn't diminish one bit when he caught the camera catching him.

* * *

Stanley: (_standing in the pavilion that served as the loading/unloading area for the ride; his eyebrows raised_) I _do_ smile, you know.

* * *

Michael: (_standing in the middle of a crowded fork in the path; he is oblivious to the tourists giving him dirty looks as they attempt to maneuver around him_) Do I think we're having a better time than everyone that went with Judy? Uh, _yeah. _I _know _we're having more fun than all those losers. Granted we haven't really done anything yet… We're kinda just…wandering around, getting a feel for the place. Absorbing the magic. (_He dramatically takes a deep breath, apparently breathing in the magic as well, but his moment is cut short when a rotund older gentleman runs directly into him. Michael glares at him, and the man offers either an apology or a polite curse in what sounds like Swedish. Michael looks at the camera again._) God. So rude. (_He looks around_.) For this place having so much to do, I'll be damned if I can find any of it.

* * *

Kevin pulled at the collar of his shirt as he stood in line to ride Kali River Rapids with Judy, Jim, Pam, Kelly and Darryl. "It is so _hot_," he stated somewhat mournfully. Judy gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I know. I promise you'll feel much cooler after this ride," she assured him.

"Wait – do you get _wet_ on this ride?" Kelly asked. Judy nodded. Darryl gave his girlfriend a look.

"What did you think happened on a ride with 'river rapids' in the name?" he questioned her. She shrugged.

"I don't know – you'd, like, ride a little boat and look at cute animals or something?" She looked down at her white t-shirt. "This is totally going to be see-through when it's wet," she said, in a tone that implied she wasn't horrified at the prospect. "Thank God I wore a cute bra today."

Kevin shared his lazy smile with the camera.

* * *

(_Kevin is more or less soaked as he stands at the exit of Kali River Rapids. He watches Darryl and Kelly walk by and, true to her prediction, her black and pink bra is clearly visible through her shirt. Pam walks by next, laughing with Jim and exposing a swath of bare midriff as she wrings out her shirt. Once she's out of sight Kevin turns to the camera, wearing a satisfied smile._)

Kevin: Yeah, I feel better now.

* * *

"Ah, yes…here we go! Found…something!" Michael crowed, jogging. Dwight and Andy hurried to follow him. Angela followed at a slower pace, looking unimpressed. The three men slowed and looked up at the sign.

A giant blue bear held a canoe out of which Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, and Huey, Dewey and Louie seemed to be dangling. **CAMP MINNIE-MICKEY **was written along the side of the canoe, with an arrow pointing off to the right. Slowly Michael, Dwight and Andy looked around, all three of them taking in the fact that this sign seemed to be attracting an audience whose average age was seven (not including the harried parents accompanying the children, of course). They said nothing for a moment.

"Does this look gay to you guys, too?" Michael finally muttered out of the side of his mouth, eyeing the camera.

"_Really _gay," Andy answered in similar fashion.

"Completely homosexual," Dwight added, not to be outdone, although his face betrayed the fact that he wasn't sure he agreed with that assessment.

Michael spun on his heel. "All right, then – off to something…else!" he directed, starting first to head right, then swerving left instead. Andy and Dwight dutifully trailed at his heels.

Angela heaved an aggravated sigh and shook her head at the camera. "_Stop!_" she shouted forcefully. All three did as she commanded and turned to look at the tiny blonde. "Enough wandering. We are going _this _way," she directed with venom, pointing in the opposite direction and tromping off. Michael opened his mouth for a moment, then clamped it shut. Dwight was the first to follow Angela, smiling proudly; next came Andy. Looking like a petulant child, Michael brought up the rear.

* * *

Angela: (_leaning against a wooden railing with arms folded across her chest_) In two hours we have already passed the entrances to nine separate attractions, and four of those we've passed _twice_. Enough is enough.

* * *

Creed was ambling along the Pangani Forest Exploration Trail, a quiet nature walk in the Africa section of the park. When he spotted a Disney employee standing near one of the animal exhibits, he approached him with a smile.

"Can I help you?" Jeff from Casey, Illinois (as his nametag informed), questioned brightly, looking at the camera briefly before smiling at Creed.

"How much is it to camp here for a night, Chief?" Creed asked. Jeff's brow furrowed.

"To camp…here? On the forest trail?" he clarified.

"That's right."

"Um…you can't actually camp here, sir," Jeff answered haltingly.

"Ah," Creed replied, nodding.

* * *

Creed: (_smirking_) Didn't say anything about squatting, though.

* * *

Somehow portions of the two groups managed to meet back up in the queue for the roller coaster Expedition EVEREST. "Yeah, Oscar, it _is _relatively new," Judy was explaining, then graced Michael with a bright, if wary, smile. "Hey guys! Fancy meeting you here!"

"Uh, _you _brought us here," Dwight pointed out sarcastically.

"I meant here, in this…how was your morning?" Judy asked, verbally changing course.

"Best morning ever," Michael answered enthusiastically, then calmed down, "you know, at a crappy zoo. How was _your_ morning? Stupid? Thought so," he answered himself.

"Actually, I _think _everyone's had a good time so far…" Judy looked over the employees she had spent the last few hours with for affirmation.

"A really good time," Pam assured her, smiling. Michael frowned at her.

"Did you get lost?" Angela asked pointedly, glancing at Michael.

"Why would we have gotten lost?" Jim asked in turn, making a face.

"Yeah, we had Judy. And maps," Kevin said.

"Well aren't you _lucky_," Michael spat, still frowning. There was an awkward silence, then Michael looked at Judy with disdain. "So what is this, some lame carnival ride?"

"Actually, I was just telling these guys that Expedition EVEREST has been called our most intense thrill ride yet," Judy told him. Michael's frown melted into a look of shock.

"You destroyed a _national_ _landmark_ like Mount Everest by building a ride through it? Haven't you seen _An Inconvenient Truth_?" he asked in outrage.

Judy was rendered speechless, but finally pulled it together enough to look to the two people she had already learned were her best allies. "Not worth it," Jim ruled quietly, giving both her and the camera a jim. Judy nodded, then shook her head just a little.

"Anyway, what makes this ride so cool – spoiler alert – is that not only is it fun going forwards," she began, raising an eyebrow for effect, "but it's even more fun going _backwards_."

Pam blanched. "It goes backwards?" she asked, a distinct quiver in her voice.

* * *

Jim: (_leaning against a wall, a sign for the restroom to his left; he is wearing a worried expression_) Pam is…um…she had to make a run for the bathroom. It was _not _more fun for her going backwards.

(_Pam appears at his side, looking a little green; Jim puts an arm around her and she smiles faintly - first up at him, then at the camera._)

Pam: (_with forced enthusiasm_) I'm okay. It was fun.

Jim: (_unable to keep from looking at her lovingly before smiling at the camera_) What a trooper.

(_Pam smiles more genuinely than someone who is still slightly green should._)

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **DAK isn't said "dack," you just use the letters. Not at all important, but whatever. Also, Angela going to the doctor was referenced in one of my earlier stories, The Finale Prank. I kind of establish my own back story here. :)

No added bits for this chapter, friends. If Judy or I didn't explain any of the attractions well enough, please check out the link on my profile that's listed as the guide to all things Disney. You'll see and read about anything and everything mentioned. Pinkie swear.

_Yo ho, yo ho  
A writer's life for me -  
I plan and I scheme and I plot and I dream,  
And share with me hearties, yo ho..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: you know the legal drill, m'nerds. **(Whoa, sorry. Channeled Todd Packer for a minute there.)

Back to the Animal Kingdom!

* * *

Michael: (_standing in front of a sign reading __**FINDING NEMO: THE MUSICAL**_) Well, it's about two o'clock, and _Judy _(_he sneers as he says her name_) arranged for us to see the 2:15 performance of this show. Isn't she talented. (_He shakes his head, despite the fact that he hadn't really asked a question._) So, I guess we should head in.

(_The camera follows Michael as he passes a long line of people waiting to enter the theater._) I love live theater. So invigorating, so live…-ly. Of course comedy is more my forte, but I wouldn't rule out an opportunity to be on Broadway, should I get discovered…

(_He trails off, apparently distracted by the scene in front of him. A young woman in a wheelchair and three people accompanying her are being escorted out of line and into the theater by a smiling Disney employee. Michael trails them as they are shown to a designated disabled seating area toward the back where other guests in wheelchairs and scooters are already sitting. He looks to the camera and appears to be both shocked and angry._) What the hell…did you see that? I thought we were supposed to be treating everyone equally in this world. They didn't even have to wait in line, just because _she_ can't walk? It's not those other people's faults _their _legs work! Wow. That is wrong. _Wrong_.

(_Judy is waving from a row of seats approximately fifty feet away. Michael notices her and groans; mutters_) Yeah, thanks dummy. I could've found you on my own. (_He looks back at the camera, one eyebrow raised._) I'm going to get to the bottom of this…discrimination.

* * *

On stage, the brightly colored undersea world of _Finding Nemo_ was being brought to life by puppets and their puppeteers. It was a flashy musical number, and the audience watched in rapt fascination. Suddenly the camera turned and caught Jim attempting to discreetly to put in his earbuds. When he noticed the camera his eyes widened. A second later he shrugged and smiled.

* * *

Jim: (_in front of the same sign Michael had been for his interview; nodding_) Yeah, I've seen _Finding_ _Nemo. _It was good. (_He cocked his head and pointed._) Good in that _non_-musical kind of way.

* * *

"So the final area we're going to check out here at DAK is called DinoLand USA," Judy informed the group as led them down a path. "We have a great attraction here called – appropriately enough – Dinosaur. And it only goes _forward_, I promise," she added as an aside to Pam, smiling, and Pam returned the gesture. Michael gave them both an unnoticed dirty look. "Before we ride that, though, we're going to go to Chester and Hester's Dino-Rama. It has some of my very favorite theming in this park."

Ahead of them loomed what could best be described as a giant tourist trap that would have sprouted up around some fossil dig site in Montana. Cartoony carnival rides and a cheesy souvenir shop glared at them, along with a strip of carnival games that seemed to be very interesting to Dwight. "_This_ is your favorite area of the park?" Michael scoffed, glancing at the camera and throwing in a gagging gesture for good measure. Judy shrugged.

"Design-wise? Absolutely."

"I see what you mean – it's really kitschy, but it's _supposed _to be," Pam agreed, looking around.

"'Kishy'? What kind of artsy fartsy word is that, Pam? Stop trying to impress your new BFF," Michael scolded her.

Pam borrowed Jim's favorite facial expression for a moment.

"Okay, we'll take a half hour or so at the Dino-Rama, then meet back up here? Sound good?" Judy asked. The Scranton branch agreed and wandered off to explore. Michael approached Judy.

"Look, don't let this go to your head, but I have a question," he said, crossing his arms.

"I will try my hardest not to let it," she guaranteed him. "Fire away."

"When I was coming in for the _Finding Nemo_ thing, I saw this lady in a wheelchair and her friends jump out of line and get into the theater in front of everyone else."

Judy studied him. "They _cut _the line?" she attempted to clarify.

Michael stuttered a moment. "Not…quite," he finally answered.

"Were they accompanied by one of our cast members?"

"Yeeesh," he admitted after a pause.

"Got it." There was another hiccup of silence. "What's your question?"

"How can that be legal? It's discrimin-…discrit-…discrimantorally unfair."

Judy did a fair impression of a jim before she looked at Michael. "Well, we like to make sure that all our guests are as comfortable here as possible. In all our theaters and many of our attractions we have special seating sections or adapted ride vehicles that are designed specifically for guests in wheelchairs or other devices, like scooters. If a Disney cast member sees a guest that will need an accommodation they often take them out of line, or direct them through a special line." Judy smiled brightly. Michael still looked very disturbed, and slightly confused as well.

"That. Is. _Terrible_," he ruled in a heavy tone. Judy was understandably stunned by this response.

"In what way?" she brought herself to ask, once she could speak again.

Michael posed as he so often did when he knew he was about to say something brilliant. "Judy, it's unjustice at its finest. I _walk_, therefore I _wait_? It's _disgusting_. We go out of our way in this country to be fair to everyone, and down here wheelchair people get free reign. It's awful." He points at her. "Do you know what my close, personal, _bewheelchaired_ friend Billy Merchant and his waitress nurse would think of this?" he pressed her.

Judy stared at Michael, mouth agape. She must have been too overwhelmed to point out she knew neither the bewheelchaired Billy Merchant nor his waitress nurse, because she only stammered, "What?"

Michael enjoyed a meaningful pause. "It's _un-American_, Judy. He'd think it was un-American," he informed her with narrowed eyes. He started to walk away, then pivoted and gave Judy one last look. "And in case you forgot, _this_ is America." Michael nodded at the camera and left. Judy stood in the same place for a long moment. Finally, she popped off her nametag and slipped her backpack down her shoulders and swung it around to her front. After a minute of searching she retrieved her pack of Marlboro Lights and retreated in the general direction of the nearest smoking area.

* * *

Judy: (_in the smoking area_) You hear a lot of strange things working here, but that…? (_She takes a long drag off her cigarette._)

* * *

Dwight stood near the carnival games. He turned to the camera and grinned. "Jackpot," he said softly, then marched over to where Andy stood talking to Meredith. "Andy, may I see you this instant?"

"Sure." He puts his hands on his hips. "See away."

"In _private_?" Dwight asked firmly, glaring at Meredith. She shrugged and walked away. Once she was out of earshot Dwight mirrored Andy's pose. "Michael has issued his first challenge."

"Excellent. I'm ready." A beat passed. "What is it?"

Dwight pointed. "Ringosaurus," he informed Andy majestically. They both turned to survey what was essentially a dinosaur-themed ring toss game.

"Let's do it," Andy said breezily, then looked around. "Where's Michael?"

"I already told you, Michael is monitoring us at all times. Trust me."

* * *

(_Michael is on the Primeval Whirl, a small roller coaster with cars that spin as they zoom around the track. He and Phyllis smile and wave as their car nears the camera, but before it passes out of shot it's clear Michael's smile was short-lived._)

Michael: (_to Phyllis, loudly_) I need your purse, I'm gonna puke!

* * *

Dwight and Andy had attracted a small crowd as they fiercely continued their attempt to out-toss each other. Dwight studied his targets critically before he took his last throw. The camera panned the mostly Dunder Mifflin-affiliated audience and stopped on Angela, who was bouncing ever so slightly on her toes. She took a deep breath as Dwight brought back his arm…

…and deflated as he missed. For the thirty-second time.

"It's still a tie," Dwight pointed out when Andy let out a cheer. Andy grimaced.

"Ang? Buttercup? I need one more dollar please," he requested, not able to keep the frustration out of his voice. Angela handed over the bill, then reclaimed her former post near the back of the group. Judy ambled over with Stanley by her side.

"Hey everybody - ready to go?" she asked.

"_Not. Yet,_" Dwight and Andy replied, loudly and in unison. Judy blinked and remained silent.

After purchasing one more ring each, Andy looked at Dwight.

"Your turn to go first."

Dwight took a long minute to aim, then heaved his ring.

It clattered to the ground.

He stepped back to allow Andy his turn. His hands were clenched in fists at his side. A check on Angela revealed she had her eyes squeezed shut. Andy let fly his ring, and a moment later a victorious cry sounded. Angela slowly opened her eyes, and they sought Dwight as Andy danced in celebration. Dwight's sad gaze landed on her for a moment as he let out the breath he had been holding. He held out his hand to Andy. "Congratulations," he managed through gritted teeth. Andy pumped his opponent's hand.

"Thank you very much," he accepted loftily.

"Um, now are we ready?" Judy ventured. When she didn't get another protest she led the group toward the next ride. Andy and Dwight walked side by side.

"Are we going to be reimbursed? Because that cost, like, thirty five bucks," Andy said. Dwight glared at him.

"A _real _man – or number three – would _never_ ask that," he said fiercely, speeding his pace.

Andy looked concerned for a moment, then smiled and put his arm around Angela. "Did you see me back there?" he asked happily.

"I did," she answered, in a much different tone.

* * *

Angela: (_standing at the entrance to the Dinosaur attraction_) It has _not _been a good day. I followed Michael aimlessly for hours this morning. It's extremely hot. Now I have to ride a ride that will no doubt contradict directly with Genesis. _Nothing _good has happened. (_Angela listens to a word from off camera; she suddenly looks a little guilty._) Well of course it was nice to see my…fiancé beat Dwight. From Sales. (_Her eyes flit downward_.)

* * *

"I think you guys will really like this one," Judy promised as they stood in line. "Dinosaur is a thrill ride that takes you 65 million years into the past, to the Cretaceous period."

Dwight's snorted. "Clearly impossible."

Judy shrugged. "Never doubt Disney magic," she said with a smile.

"Is Disney magic responsible for keeping the head well-preserved? In addition to liquid nitrogen, I mean?" Dwight challenged her.

"…The head?"

"Walt Disney's head," Jim provided helpfully, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing at the camera.

Judy stared the same way helplessly.

* * *

Dwight: (_at the ride's exit, looking exhilarated_) Do _not_ repeat this to Judy, but I was wrong. Apparently time travel _is _possible. This ride was vouched for by a pillar of the science community.

(_A scene plays from moments earlier. The group is assembled in the queue area. As the lights dimmed a voiceover boomed through the room, and various displays were being explained by none other than Bill Nye the Science Guy. Dwight's eyes went wide and he gave the camera a look of shock and awe._)

Dwight: If William Nye is lending his voice to this project, who am I to argue?

* * *

Jim: (_standing in the same place Dwight had, delight evident on his face and in his voice_) He thought that was _real_? Really? (_Jim takes a moment to savor that fact._) Thank you. My good day just got better.

* * *

As the group waited on the next bus, Judy looked over her charges. "So? Did we like Disney's Animal Kingdom?" Her answer was a hearty murmur of agreement.

"Eh," Michael offered, making a face.

"Excellent!" she replied, pointedly ignoring his answer. "So we'll be spending the rest of the night at Downtown Disney and Pleasure Island. Downtown Disney is our own personal shopping district, with all sorts of cool stores and boutiques, including the _massive _World of Disney. Pleasure Island is the corner of Walt Disney World that's geared more toward adults, with quite a few really neat nightclubs."

"Bars?" Meredith asked, hope shining in her eyes. Judy laughed.

"You got it."

Meredith appeared to send a quick thank you heaven-ward.

"Now, there are lots of dinner options in the complex, but I think you guys already have reservations…?" Judy trailed off. Pam sighed.

"Yes, we do."

* * *

Pam: (_leaning against a railing_) Disney's providing us with one meal a day, and that's our breakfast at the hotel. Michael asked me to make reservations for us to have a group dinner every night. Downtown Disney had a bunch of cool options to choose from: a Cuban café, one of Wolfgang Puck's restaurants, a seafood restaurant that's on an old riverboat… (_Pam purses her lips._) _We _will be eating at Planet Hollywood. (_A pause_.) That was the last time I let Michael pick where we'd eat.

* * *

Jim: (_about to board the bus, wearing a conspiratorial grin_) _They _will be eating at Planet Hollywood. I have other plans for Pam and I. Very reminiscent of our first date.

(_Dwight's head pops into the shot._)

Dwight: Get on the bus.

(_Jim raises his eyebrows and turns to climb aboard._)

**

* * *

**

**A/N Pt. II: **When Jim references he and Pam's first date here, I mean the first date that _I _pictured them having. Should you get curious about that, I wrote a little story entitled - wait for it - The Date. Like I said, I draw from my own back story. Which is really just a fancy way of saying I live in my own head. That has more psychological implications than I care to ponder.

Please don't hate Michael too much here. It's meant to be funny. It will get funnier still. Or more offensive.

_You got a friend in me  
If you leave a review for me  
Wanna see what's up ahead?  
Well I'll write some more while you're all in bed  
All I ask is what the sec'nd line said  
And leave a review for me -  
Then you'll have a friend in me..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Put down your lawsuits and check out Chapter One. Can't we all just get along?**

Shall we head to Downtown Disney? Yes, let's!

* * *

Kelly: (_in front of a giant fountain, with Planet Hollywood visible behind it; she is dressed in a brightly printed top and tight jean skirt, with some chunky jewelry thrown in to boot_) So we got to go back to the hotel and change before we came out to Downtown Disney, and all I can say is thank _God_, because I totally couldn't bear being dressed in that awful shirt, like, one second longer. How embarrassing. I mean, I know I, like, worked some magic on it, but there's only so much you can do with something so gross. Aren't you happy we got to dress up cute? (_She turns to her right and the shot pulls back to include an uncomfortable Oscar._)

Oscar: Sure.

Kelly: (_rolling her eyes at the camera_) Anyway, the best part is after we eat we get to go _shopping_! (_She claps excitedly, then turns to Oscar again._) You're at least excited about shopping, right?

Oscar: (_rubs the back of his neck_) I…yeah. Why not?

(_Kelly watches him a long moment before resting a hand on his arm._)

Kelly: (_sounding concerned_) You know you really need, like, better gay training.

* * *

The branch was gathered in small groupings outside Planet Hollywood waiting for their table to open. Everyone was dressed in attire different than what they'd worn earlier, save Michael and Dwight, still proudly wearing their Dunder Mifflin shirts. Andy stood with Angela, looking concerned. "Should I have kept my t-shirt on?" he asked her, glancing at Dwight, then down at his own choice in attire - a shockingly green Izod polo (with collar popped), and navy shorts, embroidered with tiny alligators.

"No. Those things are obscene."

"But Dwight has his on. So does Michael."

Angela looked over at the two men in matching red shirts. Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "I'm sure it's fine," she assured Andy coolly. Andy seemed unconvinced but said nothing more.

Pam was standing off to the side talking with Meredith and Phyllis. Jim, who had been listening to Kevin talk about a wager he'd won on a recent Phillies game, noticed she was preoccupied and stepped away quickly to approach Judy. He leaned over and whispered something to her. She, in turn, nodded, and whispered something back. Jim gave her a smile and began strolling toward Pam. Just then the loud speaker clicked on.

"_Planet Hollywood would like to welcome the Scranton party! Scranton, party of fourteen_!"

"Pam!" Michael cried, spinning around. "That's _not_ the name I told you to use!" He grinned at the camera. "I wanted Harry Butz," he revealed, then giggled fiendishly.

"That's what she said!" Andy and Dwight said simultaneously. They glowered at each other as Michael laughed harder.

"Sorry, Michael, I…forgot," Pam apologized, quite unapologetically. The group made its way to the entrance, but Jim appeared next to Pam and laced his fingers through hers. She looked up at him in surprise as he gently pulled her away.

"What are you doing?" she asked, following his lead. He shook his head.

"Not taking questions. Come on." He gave the camera a happy smirk as the two walked away quickly.

* * *

Michael: (_in front of a wall covered in movie memorabilia; he looks impressed_) Scranton's great, but it doesn't afford a lot of opportunities for you to hobnob with the stars. That's why I chose this place for dinner. Pam wasn't happy with the choice, but I don't expect her to get it. I'm kind of the only one in the office that understands this kind of thing, the type of chance this is. I haven't seen any celebrities here yet, but I _have _seen a lot of their stuff. Plus, this place was founded by some of the finest actors ever. Stallone. Willis. Schwarzenegger. You know if they get behind a restaurant it's gonna be _awesome_. Great ambiance. Gourmet food. (_He shook his head_.) It's a once in a lifetime thing, y'know?

* * *

Stanley: (_in front of a giant television that's playing clips from Die Hard, looking bored_) It's a louder Chili's with some props in it. They better have tasty wings.

* * *

Jim and Pam were still walking hand-in-hand as they passed a wooden building bearing a sign lettered with the title **Adventurer's Club**. "You're really not going to tell me where we're going?"

Jim simply shook his head and continued whistling Weezer's "Holiday."

Pam looked skeptical. "How do I know _you_ know where we're going?" she pressed.

Jim shrugged.

She gave the camera a confused look and they walked on without another word. Suddenly Pam's eyes narrowed. The camera turned and showed what had caught her interest – a squat Irish pub with a crimson sign that read **Raglan Road****. **Her previously narrow eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open a little. She looked up at Jim expectantly and he couldn't keep from smiling, which ruined any hope he had of continuing to whistle casually. He shoved his free hand deep in the pocket of his loose-fitting khakis. Pam turned back to smile brilliantly at the camera, which meant she missed the looks of absolute shock, terror, and finally dismay that swept across her boyfriend's face in rapid succession. The hand searching his pocket spasmed like a trapped animal. He had managed to regain at least the appearance of calm when Pam's eyes met his again.

"Interesting choice," she said playfully, squeezing his hand. He smiled awkwardly.

"I try," he said, somewhat hoarsely. He bowed his head a little as they headed for the pub entrance.

* * *

Jim: (_outside the restaurant on a bench with his elbows on his knees, a bronze statue of a man with folded arms is seated next to him; evenly_) I left it…you know, the ring…in the pocket of my shorts I wore earlier today, so…go me. (_Jim glances at the statue next to him and folds his hands. He tries to smile as he looks back at the camera, but his eyes are clouded_.) We've already got a table so…we might as well just eat here. Right? (_He looks down at his folded hands_.) You should probably just focus on everyone at Planet Hollywood. That'll be much more interesting than anything going on…here.

(_Jim rubs a hand over his face. Someone listening very carefully would hear him whisper, "Idiot."_)

* * *

A waiter approached the long table the rest of the Dunder Mifflin travelers occupied at Planet Hollywood, holding a tray laden with beverages. After they were distributed Michael clanged a knife against his glass and stood up.

"I'd like to propose a toast," he announced. He looked around at his employees and smiled affectionately. "I'm so happy to have you all here with me on this night – well, all except Holly, whose trip I gave away to my brotha from anotha motha -" (Darryl shook his head a little as Kelly squeezed his arm, starry-eyed) " – and Pam and Jim, who are no doubt off having hot-"

"Michael," Angela said warningly. "There are children around."

"And prudes," Michael said under his breath. He cleared his throat. "My heart is full when I see all of you here, in this restaurant I chose. On this trip I scored us. It brings me joy. And despite anyone that attempts to infiltrate our circle–" he looked directly at Judy, who lowered her glass some, "-I know when I see us gathered here at one table that we…" Michael trailed off as his voice cracked. He brought a hand to his mouth and Dwight reached up to touch his arm. Michael shuddered and stepped away from Dwight's touch. "I know that we will always be a family," he managed to say as his eyes filled with tears. He then stood there silently.

"Cheers?" Kevin finally guessed. Michael nodded, apparently too moved by his own words to speak, and everyone at the table began clinking glasses.

* * *

It was clear the cameraman was attempting to film Jim and Pam without being noticed, because they were obstructed by the pole of a patio umbrella and several tables full of diners. They sat outdoors and gave the waitress clearing their plates a smile. After she left Jim glanced at Pam briefly.

"How was your food?"

"Delicious. How was yours?"

"Good," he said, nodding. Pam smiled at him but he only returned the gesture for an instant before he let his eyes roam the general vicinity. She bit her lip, but pushed another grin onto her face when the waitress returned.

"Can I get you two dessert, or maybe a drink?" she offered, her words colored by a soft Irish accent. Pam nodded.

"Yeah…may I have a draft Killian's, and…Jim? Black and tan for you?" She smiled hopefully at him. He started.

"Oh…yeah. That sounds great. Thanks," he said, smiling too. The waitress jotted the order down and left for the bar. Pam tipped her head.

"Are you okay?" she murmured. Jim nodded slowly.

"Yep. I'm fine." He stared down at the table.

Pam followed suit.

* * *

Judy was looking at a map of the shopping district with Phyllis and Kelly, who were seated on either side of her, pointing at different spots and explaining what could be found at each store. Further down the table Kevin leaned toward Creed, who sat to the left of him.

"What do you think of Judy?" he asked as quietly as he could in the noisy restaurant, watching their guide as she laughed at something Phyllis said. Creed stared at him blankly. Finally Kevin pointed at the brunette. "_She's _Judy," he explained.

"Oh," Creed said, then studied the young woman for a moment. "Not bad. Looks like a square with those Buddy Holly frames, but overall she's all right. Great chest," he finally ruled. Kevin nodded seriously. "She's kinda chatty, though. Always yap-yapping about things."

Kevin considered that a moment. "I think that's her job. She _is _our tour guide."

Creed raised his eyebrows. "Is she?"

Kevin gave him a strange look. "Yeah."

"No kidding."

* * *

Creed: (_outside the restaurant_) That's good to know. (_Creed shrugs._) I thought she mighta been someone's kid. (_He walks away_.)

* * *

Kevin: (_standing at the bar_) It may just be the glasses, but I think Judy's pretty hot. I know I've got Holly back home, but you know what they say. (_He smiles sneakily and nods._) When the cat's away, the mouse will play. (_Kevin pauses a moment to ponder that metaphor; as he does his smile makes a run for it._) I'm not sure if I'm the cat or the mouse.

* * *

"So we're going shopping now, right?" Kelly asked Judy eagerly as they left the restaurant. Judy nodded.

"The shops all close before the clubs in Pleasure Island do, so I figured we'd head this way first." Judy stopped and looked around at the group. "Creed's already gone. Did we lose Meredith too?" she wondered.

* * *

Meredith: (_standing at the bar in 8Traxx, a dance club; Andy Gibb's "Shadow Dancing" is playing loudly_) I'll shop later. (_She takes a sip of a large, colorful drink then turns to the bartender, a moustached man in his late forties, and gives him a wink._)

* * *

As Judy held the door for everyone at World of Disney, she gave an approaching Jim and Pam a wave. Jim waved back and Pam smiled as brightly as she could. Judy let the door close and walked to meet them.

"How was your dinner?" she asked.

"Great. Really good," Pam answered, wrapping her arm around her middle and glancing at Jim. "I'm gonna go check out the store," she said quietly, and with a quick, half-smile at the camera hurried away to do just that. Jim couldn't help but watch her, then sneak his own look at the camera. He then looked at Judy again.

"How was _your_ dinner?" he asked lightly, as he and Judy both followed after Pam. "Did we miss anything?"

Judy tilted her head slightly. "Probably not anything you haven't seen some variation of before."

Jim managed a genuine jim. "Oh good." He held the door for Judy and entered behind her.

* * *

Phyllis was studying a huge display of Christmas ornaments as Michael walked up. She gave him a smile, then a curious look as he picked up a bulb that read _Baby's First Christmas_.

"Who's that for?" she asked him. He jumped a little and quickly replaced it.

"That? No one. My friend. That I know. Very well." Michael feigned interest in a gingerbread rendition of Cinderella's Castle.

Phyllis gave the camera a knowing look.

* * *

Michael: (_leaning against a display of yellow onesies reading "Mommy's Favorite Dwarf"_) Okay, so I was looking at those for Jan. Big deal. Doesn't mean anything. Just being a good friend. (_He looks at the onesies critically_.) I thought we were supposed to call them 'little people' now.

* * *

Dwight stood in the checkout line at the Lego Imagination Center store, watching the children running amok around him with contempt. He turned slightly and his disgusted look only intensified as he noticed Jim taking a place behind him in line. Jim gave him a grin. "I thought these were cool," he admitted, holding up a small box. Inside were three tiny Lego versions of Chewbacca, Darth Vader and Obi-Wan Kenobi. "They're magnets."

"I know," Dwight said, fumbling with the kits he held and finally holding up an identical box, only his held Darth Maul, Anakin Skywalker and some sort of fighter pilot. Jim's smlie fell some. Suddenly a flash went off and both turned in surprise to see Pam, who was holding her camera and smiling, this time genuinely.

"_That's _going in the scrapbook," she said decidedly.

"Delete that picture," Dwight ordered. Pam appeared to think about it.

"No," she finally said.

Before he could argue further the cashier called out a friendly, "You're next, sir!" Dwight glared at Pam before putting his purchases on the counter. Pam and Jim shared a soft smile and she joined his side.

"You _really _won't delete that?" he asked quietly, taking her hand.

"Not a chance."

* * *

Pam: (_outside, smiling_) Jim bought the first souvenir! He was teasing me all week, saying I'd be the out-of-control Disney fan, and _he_ bought something first. (_Pam's smile fades just a little as she listens to a question. She reaches up to her necklace._) Yeah, everything's fine. Just…you know. It's been a long day. But a good one. (_She nods._)

* * *

When Kevin, Jim and Andy left a small store called Team Disney they found the rest of their coworkers assembled near the water. "_Another _purchase?" Pam asked teasingly as Jim joined her. Jim shrugged and pulled an ESPN Baseball glass out of his bag.

"This is it," he told her. She flashed a doubtful grin at the camera as Judy moved to the front of the group.

"Okay, so I'm going to take anyone interested back to Pleasure Island to check out the nightlife over there. If you want to do more shopping feel free; the stores are open until eleven o'clock. If you're just ready to call it a night, no problem – head over to the bus stop and you'll be able to catch a ride back to the hotel," she informed them. "Take a minute or two to decide. I'll be at the bridge over there waiting for whoever's interested in checking out the nightclubs." She headed off to the left. Stanley, Oscar and Phyllis quickly ruled they were ready to turn in and left, and after a few heated moments of discussion Andy and Angela did the same.

* * *

Andy: (_standing at the bus pick-up, Angela is visible behind him on a bench; he is speaking quietly_) Would I love to head out on the town and party my _ace _off with everyone else, especially Michael? Um, _yeah_. But I've got more than just me to think about now, y'know? (_He casts a loving look over his shoulder. Angela notices and gives a prim smile in return. Once Andy turns to the camera again, however, the smile disappears and she folds her arms across her chest. Andy holds up a large shopping bag._) Besides, she needed me to carry all the stuff she bought for the cats at that Disney Tails place.

* * *

Dwight walked by Michael's side as they followed Judy to Pleasure Island. "I am very excited to go out on another night on the town with you, Michael," he said earnestly. Michael frowned at the camera.

"Dammit, Dwight, you're making it sound so gay," he told him.

"I'm sorry. What club will we visit first?"

Michael was quiet a long minute. "It's…hard to say. There's…that one, you know, that one's cool," he attempted.

"Do you want me to tell you what's there?" Judy asked, slowing to join them.

"No," Dwight answered immediately.

"_I'd_ like to know," Pam said.

Both Michael and Dwight glared at her.

"Well, there's 8Traxx, which is a dance club that plays music from the 70's and 80's-"

"Oh, _that _sounds hip and cool – no thanks," Michael replied.

"Or there's Mannequins; they play contemporary music and have a really cool revolving dance floor."

"Omigod, that's _so _where I want to go! That sounds _awesome_. Can we go there, baby? Pleasepleaseplease?" Kelly begged, grabbing Darryl's arm. He shrugged.

"Sure."

Kelly squealed. She turned to Jim and Pam excitedly. "You guys should totally come too! We can double date! Yay!"

Jim and Pam exchanged a look.

"Dou-ble date! Dou-ble date! Dou-ble date!" Kelly chanted, slapping Jim lightly on the arm with each syllable.

"Okay, sure," Pam gave in.

Jim graced the camera with a desperate glance, then shared it with Pam as she smiled at him. Michael nodded.

"Yes, let's go there. Good call."

Kelly shook her head. "Um, it's a double date. Like, the four of us." She began hauling Darryl off.

"Darryl?" Michael tried.

"You know how it is, Mike - dink and flicka," he called over his shoulder, grinning at the camera. Jim and Pam slowly followed after them.

"Dink and flicka," Michael sighed sadly and took in who he was left with. Kevin, Dwight and Judy clearly weren't measuring up, as evidenced by the grimace he shot camera-ward.

"Well let's see, we could always-" Judy began, but Michael waved her off.

"There is absolutely nothing else I'd rather do," he huffed.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay. I was about to suggest the improv show that starts in twenty minutes or so at the Comedy Warehouse, but…"

Michael's head jerked in Judy's direction violently and his eyes narrowed. "_Did you say improv comedy_?" he asked softly.

* * *

Oscar: (_seated on a bar stool at Petals Pool Bar, a gin and tonic in his hand_) It had nothing to do with being tired. We heard Judy mention the comedy club at dinner. I knew then and there I'd be doing my drinking poolside tonight.

(_The shot widens to include Stanley, who's on a stool next to Oscar's. Stanley grins and holds out his red wine. He and Oscar clink glasses._)

* * *

"Do you have any comedy clubs in Scranton?" Judy asked the three men she accompanied as they entered the Comedy Warehouse.

"We have a place called Wise Crackers in Wilkes-Barre," Kevin answered. "It sucks."

"We have no need to go out for our comedy," Dwight said fiercely. "Michael is a comedic genius."

Michael wore an "aw shucks" look. "You are far too generous, my friend."

Dwight beamed. "It's true. Michael is a professional."

"Well, I've taken classes for a few years, that's true." He glanced at the camera. "They don't grade you or anything, but my talent speaks for itself."

Judy raised her eyebrows. "That sounds cool, Michael. I've thought about taking a class like that."

Michael stared at her. "Why?"

"Um…I just thought it might be fun. Maybe help me become a better, more entertaining guide."

"I think you're an _awesome _guide," Kevin complimented her. Judy smiled, but before she could thank him Michael snorted.

"You _would_ think that. No eye for talent," Michael said as an aside to the camera. "And I wouldn't bother with the comedy class if I were you. You've gotta have that natural ability first and you…"

"Are _not _funny," Dwight finished. He then began pointing frantically. "Michael! Two seats open down front!"

"Excellent! It'll make it much easier to get involved – hop right in when the moment's right!" Michael started to head down the stairs. Judy's eyebrows met her hairline and she grabbed his shoulder.

"Michael, you don't _perform _here – you know that, right? You just _watch _the show. From the audience," she explained hastily. Michael gave a knowing look to the camera.

"Judy, I know improv. They love having trained performers join them – it keeps it interesting, keeps you on your toes." He snapped his fingers several times in her face as he spoke. She pulled back slightly.

"No. No, they don't like that at all, Michael-"

But Michael was already headed off down the stairs. She watched him anxiously, then turned to find Kevin still standing there.

"I'll sit with you up here," he offered, still smiling.

She did her best to return the gesture. "Thanks," she managed faintly. "Why don't you grab these two seats. I'm going to go get something to drink." She turned to leave.

"Will you get me a beer?"

Judy only nodded as she disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Judy: (_carrying a bottle of Bud Light and a glass full of amber liquid; she looks startled_) It's an…iced tea. (_Her jaw clenches._) You should just edit this out too. (_Judy takes a long sip, cringing slightly._)

* * *

Jim and Pam were sitting at a table near the dance floor, each with a beer in front of them. Jim couldn't help but laugh as Pam bobbed her head as the latest Madonna effort blared from the speakers. "What?" she asked, laughing too.

"You've clearly lost your mind."

"Really? Why?" she asked.

"This song is _terrible_ and yet you're still dancing."

"I'm…bopping. I'm not dancing," she corrected him.

"'Bopping?'" he repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes. Bopping."

"Thank God we discovered time travel's possible today."

"Why is that?"

"Otherwise you'd have a hell of a time returning that word to 1956 when you're done with it," he said, taking a swig of his beer. Pam slapped his arm, then looked out on the dance floor.

"Would you prefer I dance like that?" she quizzed, pointing. The camera turned and zoomed in on Kelly grinding on Darryl so intimately it could make one feel dirty just seeing it.

"Definitely not," he replied, then smiled suggestively. "Let me rephrase that." He leaned in and whispered to her. Even in the darkness of the club the shocking pink that tackled Pam's cheeks as he whispered was evident. She gave him another slap, whispered something back and proceeded to resume 'bopping.' Jim grinned widely.

* * *

Michael: (_outside the Comedy Warehouse; his arms are folded tightly and anger contorts his features._) This place gives improv a bad name.

(_A scene plays in which Michael is climbing awkwardly onto the stage to join four other performers. Their gestures clearly indicate they are trying to discourage him. Dwight, on the other hand, gets to his feet and begins cheering. Michael gets on the stage and launches into a series of exaggerated mimes – first driving a car, then what appears to be a gorilla impression, and finally holding someone up at gunpoint. This continues for another moment or two, and just as Michael looks as if he is about to kiss one of the female performers a security guard comes on stage and forcefully takes his arm. As he is led out, he can faintly be heard yelling, "I'm a professional! I'm trained!" Dwight hurries after them, shaking his head ad holding up his hand to prevent the camera from filming._)

Michael: It's _improv_, as in im-pro-vi-sa-tion. From the Latin: prepare to be unprepared. I was testing their skills. They should be _happy _for the challenge!

(_Judy enters the shot. She looks very tired._)

Judy: (_with a small smile it's obvious she doesn't feel_) Ready to go?

(_Michael gives her a long look, dripping with hatred. She sighs._)

* * *

Pam: (_standing at the bus stop; Kelly and Darryl can be seen making out against the post behind her_) So here's the score at the end of day one. Jim threatened to let a hippo maul me.

Jim (_grinning_) Yep. We saw a stage full of singing undersea life, and learned going in reverse triggers Pam's motion sickness.

Pam: (_nodding_) We traveled through time. Jim went on a shopping spree.

Jim: And we've seen dancing the likes of which I haven't been exposed to since my high school prom.

Pam: (_looks at Jim_) Quite an eventful day.

Jim: (_nods_) And there are still three days to go. (_He eyes the camera meaningfully._)

* * *

**A/N Pt. II:** Just have to share this - John Krasinski's appearance on Conan (to promote _Leatherheads_), was replayed tonight. It thrilled me endlessly that he referenced the Hall of Presidents and animatronics. Coincidence? Well, yeah. Obviously. But still. I loved it.

Two things: One, Jim's proposal idea here makes more sense if you've read The Date. Shameless plug. Two, there are two "bonus bits" for this chapter - if you swing by my profile you'll find a link to Jim's list of proposal plans (what's been revealed so far), and a "deleted scene" featuring Angela.

_Someday an update will come,  
__But only if you show some love -  
__And how thrilling that moment will be  
__When I read the words you leave for me.  
__Just write a line or two,  
__Not much for you to do.  
__Don't care what you say -  
__I'll be happy either way,  
__If you just leave a review…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hey scary giant corporations, I don't own a thing. Don't even claim to. But if any of you Disney brass need me for a job, just call! **

Hi everyone! Sorry I spoiled y'all with those daily updates then left you hanging - I'm a jerk! Hope this was worth waiting for; more at the end of the chapter...

* * *

Andy was in the bathroom of the hotel room he was sharing with Dwight, attempting to style hair that was too short to style. Dwight sat on his bed, analyzing the directions for a Lego kit of the _Millennium Falcon_ he bought the previous evening. "So what challenges do you think Michael has up his sleeve for today?" Andy called as he studied his reflection critically. Dwight said nothing. "Are you shunning me again?" Andy finally asked, his tone a mix of confusion and annoyance.

"No."

Andy set down his brush and emerged from the bathroom. "What do you think Michael will have us do today?" he tried again.

"It isn't our place to speculate on what Michael will do. All we need to do is step up when we are called upon."

Andy looked as if he wasn't sure what to say in response to this, so he said nothing. Instead he came to stand near Dwight's bed. He smirked at the pieces strewn across Dwight's bed.

"Dwight, from one bro to another, I gotta tell you – you'll never bag a babe playing with toys," he advised.

Dwight snuck a smirk to the camera.

* * *

Dwight: (_outside the room_) Yes, Andy Bernard and I are sharing a room. And I'm fine with that. I welcome any opportunity to learn more about my enemy. (_He smiles diabolically._) It makes me better prepared to defeat him in battle. (_A pause._) And for the record, there are plenty of women that have no issue with toys. (_The left corner of his lips quirks upward disturbingly._) Of any kind.

* * *

At the end of breakfast Judy stood and smiled. "So, gang, today we'll be heading to Disney's Hollywood Studios. It used to be known as Disney-MGM Studios, but in January of this year it underwent a name change-"

"_Bo_-ring," Michael ruled, letting out a loud yawn. Dwight snickered and held up his hand for a high-five. After a hesitation – and noticing his heckling had garnered no other support – he obliged. Judy smiled grimly.

"Thank you, Michael."

"You're _not _welcome."

"Burned," Dwight added.

"Anyway, as the name suggests, this park's theme is Hollywood and the movies – obviously there's a heavy dose of Disney influence, with shows based on _The Little Mermaid _and _Beauty and the Beast_, but we also have attractions based on popular franchises like _Indiana Jones _and _Star Wars_."

Dwight's eyes narrowed. "We'll be riding the _Star Wars_ ride today?" he confirmed. Judy nodded.

"That's right."

Dwight nodded. "Excellent."

Judy waited for some sort of harassment, as it had come to be second nature when Dwight spoke to her, about her, or even _near_ her, but she got nothing of the kind. With a surprised smile she continued her explanation. Michael, however, looked shocked and leaned Dwight's way. "What?" he whispered, his tone accusatory.

Dwight frowned. "What?"

"'Excellent'? What are you saying?"

"I love _Star Wars_, Michael, you know that."

"More than—" Michael swallowed his next word, sat back in his seat again and took a quick look at the camera. "Never mind. I see where your loyalties lie."

"Well of course with Dunder Mifflin," Dwight said quickly. "But also the Rebellion. And then the New Republic."

* * *

Michael: (_near the buffet; looking irritated_) Well, Judy managed to suck Dwight in with nerd bait, which is just _fantastic_. I guess I should have seen it coming: Judy's a dork, and so is Dwight. You can't trust dorks. Cool guys like me and Jim have known that for years. I've gotta be a lone wolf today. It'll give me time to learn more about the wheelchair people takeover. And who knows? Maybe I'll get discovered...(_his brows furrow_) Didn't Judy say this was Hollywood? Gah…she talks so _much_, but says so _little_. Talk about someone who needs to be a more effective speaker.

* * *

As Judy went over a few final details with the groups as they stood at the gates of Disney's Hollywood Studios, Jim and Pam looked at their map.

"So how long do you plan on pretending like you're not at all interested in the _Star Wars _ride and…oh look, an adjoining store called 'Tatoon Traders,'" Pam wondered, looking at Jim innocently. He didn't remove his eyes from the map.

"That's Ta-too-_ine_ Traders, and I have no idea what you're talking about," he said casually.

"I see. We're playing _that _game."

"Because I'm sure you haven't plotted a course to MuppetVision 3D and…hey, check that out, the Stage 1 Company Store." Jim flashed a raised-eyebrow look back at Pam.

"Oh, they have that here? Didn't notice," Pam replied airily. Jim shook his head.

"Probably for the best. It's all the way over there. Too far of a walk."

Pam nodded. "Much too far. Only slightly further than the _Star Wars _thing. Best to just skip both."

"I agree."

"Should we just head for what's closest…say, the _Beauty and the Beast _stage show?"

"Oh definitely."

"Oh, _awesome_!" Kelly appeared in a blur of rhinestones and squeals. "Darryl and I were _totally _going to check that out first – Judy said there's a show starting in, like, twenty minutes, and she'd get us spots in front!"

Pam and Jim looked caught, and Jim's face fell further when Phyllis joined them. "I love that movie. Mind if I join you?" she asked, smiling.

"Omigod, _no_, of course not!" Kelly snatched Phyllis's hand and dragged her off. Darryl stared at Jim and Pam.

"Y'all couldn't have said _something_?" he asked, shaking his head.

* * *

Darryl: (_outside the amphitheater where __Beauty and the Beast__ is performed; cocking an eyebrow_) Do I _look _like the kind of cat that would dig this?

(_A scene plays in which Jim glances at Darryl while "Be Our Guest" is performed onstage. Without a word Jim passes him his second earbud and a tiny handy-wipe package. Darryl sighs visibly as he opens the handy wipe and swabs the earbud. His next words are as a voiceover_) I'd take Jim's indie rock (_expletive bleeped_) any day of the week.

* * *

Judy was leading the group toward the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror when she saw Dwight emerging from the exit. "Hey, Dwight!" she called out in greeting.

"Hello," he answered shortly.

"Did you already ride the Tower of Terror?" she asked, nodding toward the tall, seemingly decrepit building from which screams were ringing out. Dwight nodded.

"Four times, to be exact. I was _not _about to sit through that show that the rest of you were at."

Jim and Darryl exchanged matching looks, the embarrassment at being jealous of Dwight evident on both their faces.

"Well, if you'd like to ride it again you're welcome to join us," Judy offered, smiling. Dwight pursed his lips. "After this we were going to check out Aerosmith's Rock 'n Roller Coaster, then maybe head to the Backlot Express for some lunch. It's right next to Star Tours."

He looked torn for a moment, then finally nodded. "This seems like an acceptable plan," he ruled. Judy nodded happily and continued walking, but Dwight was frozen in place upon spotting Michael - who had apparently witnessed this whole interaction - quickly walking away. "Hey! Michael!" he cried out. Michael sped his pace. "_Michael!_" Dwight tried again, running after him.

"Forget it, Dwight," he called over his shoulder.

"Michael _please_!" Michael stopped short and Dwight ran into him at full speed. Both tumbled to the ground, but Dwight was on his feet again in an instant and offering Michael a hand. Pointedly ignoring the proffered hand, Michael clambered up on his own.

"What do you want, Dwight? To stab me in the back again?"

Dwight looked as if he had been slapped. "I didn't stab you—"

"Yes you did, Dwight, _yes you did_! It's just like what happened with Captain Jack – someone throws you a scrap of attention and you leave me all alone."

There was a pause. "That sounds a little gay," Dwight finally muttered, glancing at the camera. Michael's face quickly turned crimson.

"How dare you," he breathed. He stared at Dwight for a moment, then brushed off his shirt and started away again. Dwight opened his mouth but then slowly let it fall shut. His head was jerked in the opposite direction by the sound of chuckling.

There stood Andy, a glib smile plastered on his face.

"That affects nothing," Dwight told him, somewhat weakly.

* * *

Andy: (_in front of the Tower of Terror; still grinning, singing_) _I am the champions, my frie-eeeends…_

* * *

Dwight: (_in front of the same ride, worry doing battle with the dismissive look he is attempting to wear_) Andy Bernard _hardly _has one up on me. Well, he _does_, but he most certainly doesn't have _two _up. _That _wasn't a challenge. _I'll_ determine the next challenge. (_A long pause._) At some point.

* * *

Angela: (_sitting on a bench_) Of course one should remain loyal to his boss. Andy is very good at that. (_She grimaces, then arches an eyebrow._) However, any wom-…any_one _worth her…or his, weight knows that the pull of science fiction is one no man-…no_one _can resist for long. It's only natural. I'm sure Michael will understand eventually. I did. (_Her eyes widen just slightly._) I mean…

(_Looking flustered, Angela smoothes an invisible hair back into her ponytail._)

* * *

As Judy herded the group toward the Tower of Terror, she paused as she noticed Stanley wandering off. "Stanley? You don't want to ride-"

"No."

"Oh…uh, well what about the Aerosmi-"

"I'll meet you afterward," he answered, heading instead toward a kiosk with a sign reading **Toluca Legs Turkey Co.** Judy watched him for a moment, then shrugged into the camera and jogged after her charges.

* * *

Stanley: (_on a bench near Aerosmith's Rock 'n Roller Coaster; accentuating each point he makes with a giant turkey leg he's holding_) I don't do drops, I don't do loops, I don't do thrills. And I eat when I want. (_Stanley smiles at his turkey leg and takes a large bite._)

* * *

Michael stood in line to ride the Tower of Terror, having waited until he saw the rest of his group had emerged from the exit before getting in the queue. "I loved _The Twilight Zone_ as a kid. It never scared me; I appreciated it for the art of the film, plus Vincent Price was a great host," he was explaining to the camera.

A man in a Detroit Tigers cap turned around, looking at Michael strangely. "Vincent Price didn't host that show," he said, glancing at the camera, then Michael. Michael gave his own dubious look to the camera.

"Oh really? Then who was it?"

"It was Rod Serling."

Michael's eyebrows shot up and he laughed. "The guy that yelled 'Come on down!' on _The Price Is Right_? No, pal, I think _you're_ the one that's mistaken."

The young man looked baffled. "That's Rod-"

But Michael waved him off, distracted and edging up further in line to see what was happening in front of him. A Disney cast member was holding the handlebars of a manual wheelchair while an older man, with some difficulty and assistance from a middle-aged woman, stood and stepped into the small ride car. Michael turned back to the camera, fuming.

"_Faker!_" he hissed. "That old fart fakes a handicap and gets on…" He shook his head, too offended to go on. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Egregious. I'm making a note of that, believe me."

* * *

The group was in a good mood as they crossed the park to grab a bite to eat at the restaurant Judy had suggested, brought on by the adrenaline rush a good roller coaster provides. Jim and Pam followed as they looked at their map.

"Did you see this?" Jim asked, pointing at an area toward a building in the far left section of the park.

"'The Magic of Disney Animation,'" Pam read, then nodded. "I remember that. I took a class there last time I was here. I was sixteen."

"Really?"

She nodded again. "It wasn't a big deal; we learned about the history of animation and at the end we got to paint a cell."

"An activity you no doubt aced," Jim replied, smiling. Pam put on a cocky look.

"I don't want to brag, but the instructor told me I was a natural. I stay inside the lines _exceptionally_ well."

"I'm honored to know you," Jim told her, taking her hand.

"You should be," she said, grinning, then looked to Judy, who was now walking next to her. "Do they still have that class?"

"Not the exact one you're talking about, but they offer mini-classes on drawing characters all day," Judy said. Pam looked at Jim in excitement.

"Now you can be a master art_-eest _too!" she said happily. Jim raised his eyebrows.

"In just one class? I don't think there's enough Disney magic available to make _that _happen."

Before they could continue Kevin had sidled up to the trio. "Whatcha talking about?" he asked Judy.

"Oh, a drawing class we'll be checking out later," Judy informed him. Kevin nodded.

"Cool. That reminds me…do you have any tattoos?" he asked, sneaking a smirk at the camera.

"How did a drawing class remind you of tattoos?" Jim questioned, staring at Kevin.

"Because tattoos are…drawings…on your body," Kevin supplied slowly.

"Um…well, I shouldn't _really _tell you, but I do have this," Judy confided, pulling up the right leg of her capris slightly and revealing a small, stylized Mickey Mouse silhouette between her shin and ankle. "It was my congratulations gift to myself when I got hired here," she added as she stood back up, grinning sheepishly.

"It's really cute," Pam told her. Jim, however, was still watching Kevin. He was still nodding, pleased. Jim leaned toward Judy.

"There's no chance you can see without your glasses, is there?" he asked her quietly.

* * *

Kevin: (_in front of the Backlot Express café; smiling lasciviously_) H. O. T. T. (_A pause._) T. (_Another pause._) The last 'T' is for tattoo. The middle 'T' is for…_you know. _(_Kevin gives his high-pitched snigger._)

* * *

After standing in line for what seemed to be an hour, the Dunder Mifflin crew had trays full of food, and moved to the outdoor patio tables that Phyllis and Kelly had been holding for them. As they took their seats Andy moved closer to the low fence that separated the patio from the walkway. "Hey Michael! Over here!" he called, waving. Michael looked up from his aimless wandering and eyed his employees warily. "Come get your eat on with us, Boss!"

Michael hesitated a moment longer, then headed their way. Andy looked at Dwight smugly; Dwight answered with a sneer. "You guys get anything for me?" Michael asked.

"Why would we do that? You weren't here," Stanley answered evenly. Michael stared at him for a moment, but stopped when Andy clapped him on the back.

"I'll go in and wait with you while you stand in line," Andy offered. Michael shrugged and the two headed inside. Dwight looked even more upset as he took a ferocious bite of his hamburger.

"So after we eat, you said there's a _Star Wars_ ride nearby?" Jim asked casually as he popped a fry in his mouth. Pam smirked at the camera.

"You mean the giant AT-AT walker didn't clue you in?" Judy teased, pointing at the looming four-legged monster machine that stood a hundred or so feet away. Jim shrugged.

"I hadn't noticed that at all," he said into his drink, unable to hide a smile.

"_Attention padawans! Are you ready to test your Jedi skills?_" came an announcement over the loudspeaker.

Dwight sat up as if a string attached to the top of his head had been yanked violently.

"What's going on?" he barked, looking around frantically.

"Oh, that's the Jedi Training Academy. They host it every few hours on the stage right across the way," Judy told him.

"A…Jedi training academy? Here?" Dwight asked in disbelief. Judy nodded.

"_Gather round quickly, young ones! The time has come!_"

"Do they use lightsabers?" Dwight asked hopefully.

"Mmhmm," Judy answered cheerily as she sipped her lemonade. His eyes went saucer-wide and he jumped up so quickly that his chair knocked into Phyllis, who was behind him.

"Alert Andy Bernard that the time for our next challenge is here," Dwight announced resolutely, looking meaningfully at Angela, then sprinting for the stage where a small crowd was gathering. Without a word Angela, flushed, hurried into the café.

Judy looked around in confusion. "What just happened here?"

"Hard telling," Jim answered.

"What challenge?" Phyllis asked, attempting to right Dwight's chair.

Angela exited, pulling Andy by the arm. "I was just _with _Michael, honey, he didn't say a thing about a challenge," he was telling her irritably.

"You know the rules," she spat back.

"But I don't _want _to be a Jedi! I'd rather be, like, a ninja or something."

"That hardly matters. Go," Angela instructed curtly. With a groan Andy climbed over the railing and headed for the stage.

"_Who will I choose first to train at the Academy?_" the voice boomed; they could see now that it came from a man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a Jedi robe and pacing the stage to which Judy had referred. She looked at Jim and Pam.

"They get that that's just a little show for _kids_, right? Like, small children?" Judy quizzed the couple nervously. Both shook their heads.

"Plus I doubt that that would make any difference, anyway," Pam added. Judy stood and headed for the railing to get a closer view of what was happening. Several others in the group joined her.

As it turned out, that wasn't necessary.

"No, Master, you've _got_ to let me onstage," all the Scranton employees heard through the speaker. The camera shifted and zoomed in on Dwight struggling to get on the platform, much to the chagrin of the Jedi-robed employee.

"_I'm sorry, Jedi, but you're too- oof! You're too old to start your training!_"

"That's _exactly_ what Yoda said to Luke, and he was wrong!" Dwight argued. He was half onstage, half off, gripping the cast member desperately. Andy looked unsure of whether he too was supposed to try and get on the stage or remain in the crowd. Dwight pulled his other leg up and grabbed the employee's shoulders.

"Oh God," Judy moaned, deftly leaping the railing and running to the stage. Pam looked to Jim but he was already climbing to his feet.

"I'm on it," he sighed as he followed their guide.

"_Let…go…I'm sorry, a valiant try-_"

"Do..or...do not…" Dwight panted, finally managing to get to his feet and throwing his arms in the air. "There is no try!" The view of this scene shook as the cameraman ran to catch up with the action. Dwight stabbed a finger in Andy's direction. "I challenge you to a duel!" he crowed. "Where is my honored Jedi weapon?" Andy glowered at him and took a step forward, but Jim put two heavy hands on his shoulders.

"C'mon, Tuna, I've gotta do this," he argued. Jim shook his head.

"No, no you don't." Andy struggled against Jim's grip for a moment, but when it was clear his efforts were useless he stopped.

Judy shot an apologetic look at the event's host and looked at Dwight. "Come on, Dwight. Michael…needs you," she called up to him.

Dwight tore his eyes from Andy and looked to Judy. "Michael needs me?" he asked doubtfully.

Judy looked to the side and saw two plainclothes security members watching the scene with interest. "Yes. He…he changed the challenge," she said hastily.

Dwight opened his mouth to argue, but upon glancing at Andy again appeared to think better of it. "Fine," he muttered at long last, climbing off the stage slowly. Judy's sigh of relief was quite audible as she sent another smile to the host and the security guards.

"I'll be right back," she told Jim as they started for the patio again, pulling off her nametag. He nodded. "And Jim?" He turned back. "Thank you," she mouthed, widening her eyes. Jim smiled.

"It's my job. Literally." The jim he gave the camera was half amused, half resigned.

* * *

Judy: (_in a wooded smoking area; looking stressed_) Do I know anything about the "challenge?" (_She shakes her head as she takes a quick drag off her cigarette._) But I put two and two together and hoped for the best. (_Judy sighs._) I _really _want to keep this job.

* * *

Michael exited the café, carrying a tray. He looked around the mostly empty tables in confusion. "Where'd everyone go?"

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **Just so you know: a padawan is the term for a youngin' training to be a Jedi. I know this chapter was a little nerd-material-heavy, but c'mon - I'm the chick that wrote The Costumes, so...there ya go.

Bonus bit - head to my profile and watch a video of the Jedi training academy Dwight tried so hard to join. It makes that concept even funnier. To me, anyway. And as always, hit up the link to all things Disney!

Huge thanks go out to MrsBigTuna, who listened and encouraged me out of my rut, and ktface3, who gave me some amazingly good ideas that jump-started my stalled writing motor. Also, to HalloweenJack138, who probably doesn't know he sent an encouraging note (also containing a few brilliant ideas), at_ just_ the right time, and of course The Fo Sho, who's always kicking my ass - in a loving way.

_Ooo-ooo-ooo  
I want your re-view-ew-ew  
Just a word or two  
From all of you  
I do-o-o -  
You see it's true-ue-ue  
A chick like me-e-e  
Writes faster when  
She gets lots of reviews!_

(Name the song that's based on and the movie in which it's played and you get a cookie. _A _cookie, not_ cookie _- you're all very nice but I'm not...like that. Unless you are John Krasinski, in which case _hello_...whoo. I am...I am saying a lot of things.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I have acquired nothing since last chapter. Well, my mom bought me two new shirts, but that's it.**

A shorter chapter, folks but packed to the brim with tasty goodness. It's got Michael at his "best" and my most obscure reference _ever. _(If you find it _and _get it...wow. Seek help.) And oh yeah, some of that gooey stuff that's kind of like jelly and a bit like preserves...what's that called? Well, sort of.

Oh yeah, and why does Pam like The Muppets? Because a.) they rule, and 2.) I said so. (The Date! The Date!) :)

Back to Disney's Hollywood Studios with you! Mush!

* * *

Dwight: (_in front of Star Tours; indignant_) Judy tricked me. Michael didn't 'need' me, and she almost forced me to expose my ruse in front of Andy. I have learned my lesson – I will not turn my back on Michael again. Even if this isn't _technically _a competition for the number three post, I cannot fall from Michael's good graces. From now on Judy is dead to me.

(_Judy appears a few feet behind Dwight._)

Judy: Ready to ride, Dwight?

Dwight: (_setting his lips in a hard line as he glances over his shoulder. He looks back at the camera._) After this ride she's dead to me.

* * *

Those that rode Star Tours came strolling out of the exit wearing smiles. Dwight immediately headed back to the entrance. Jim slowed as he reached the walkway. Pam rolled her eyes. "It's to your right," she said, unable to keep from grinning. Jim feigned ignorance.

"I was looking for the bathroom," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Funny enough that's off to the right, too," Pam replied.

"Huh," Jim mused. "How 'bout that?" He smiled at the camera and sauntered off.

* * *

Pam: (_in front of the Star Tours shop, Tatooine Traders; looking amused_) For as much as Jim teases Dwight, you'd think he was cool himself. (_She shakes her head slowly and holds up a fair-sized bag._) This is what he brought back from the "bathroom." (_She pauses, raising her eyebrows._) Then he realized he had to go to the "bathroom" again.

(_Jim jogs up behind her. He is carrying another bag, although to his credit this one is smaller. He spots the camera and immediately looks caught._)

Jim: Hey.

Pam: (_glancing up at his head; he is wearing a navy hat with gold trim around the band and a patch reading __**The Empire Strikes Back**__ on it_) Nice hat.

Jim: (_reaching behind his head to rub his neck_) The sun was in my eyes.

Pam: (_grinning, again holding up the bag_) And the hat in _here _doesn't keep sun out of your eyes?

Jim: (_glances at the camera_) This one…matches…(_Jim sighs._) I got nothin'.

* * *

Angela was seated on the edge of the fountain outside the MuppetVision 3D theater, fanning herself with a map. Phyllis walked over and took a seat next to her. Angela fidgeted and looked the opposite way.

"Hi Angela," Phyllis greeted her, smiling.

"Hello Phyllis."

"Are you hot? You can have a sip of my water," Phyllis offered, holding out a large Dasani bottle. Angela looked at it critically and her mouth opened just a little, but then simply nodded and took the bottle. After the shortest of sips she handed it back. "How's your trip been so far?"

"Fine," Angela answered, her tone clipped as she stared at her tennis shoes. "Yours?"

"Oh real fun. Of course I miss Bob Vance." There was a silence. "It's hard when you can't be with the one you really love, isn't it?" Phyllis asked softly. Angela's head snapped in Phyllis's direction, her eyes mere slits. "It's okay, Angela - you can talk to me, if you want-"

"There's _nothing _to talk about," she whispered fiercely.

"Angela, we both know I saw-"

"Hello Pam!" Angela greeted the receptionist more warmly than she ever had. Her face made the awkward transition from angry to friendly as Pam, who looked more than a little surprised, drew near.

"Hey," Pam returned, smiling at both Angela and Phyllis. "They're letting us in the theater; are you two ready?"

"Yes," Angela answered, on her feet before Pam was through asking. She took Pam's arm and began striding purposefully toward the entrance. Pam, now in utter shock, managed to look over her shoulder at Phyllis trailing behind. "So…you enjoy the Muppets?" Angela asked as she led Pam in.

"Oh…um, yeah, I love them. Don't you?"

"I'm not terribly familiar with them. I always preferred the puppetry on _Joy Junction_."

* * *

Oscar: (_outside MuppetVision 3D_) It was great. _The Muppet Show _reminds me a little of our office, you know? Chaos and stupidity reign supreme, but probably pretty entertaining to watch. (_He listens to a question from off-camera and considers it a moment_.) If I had to cast our office with the Muppets? Hmm…Dwight would be Gonzo. Michael's a little like Fozzy Bear. Andy…Andy's kind of like Miss Piggy, don't you think? Loves to sing, prone to violence… (_He listens again._) Jim and Pam…? They're the two old guys that sit in the balcony and heckle…you know…

* * *

"Statler and Waldorf!" Pam cried, holding up small figurines of the old hecklers and grinning. "I should get these and build a little balcony box to set them up in next to my TV."

"Good idea," Jim said, somewhat distractedly, from across the store. The camera slowly approached him, unnoticed. He stood in front of a display on the wall, his lanky frame preventing anyone else from seeing him. A zoom in showed a small ceramic jewelry box adorned with Kermit playing his banjo sitting on the shelf in front of him. He was carefully replacing the lid, but just enough of a black velvet box was visible inside to clue in anyone watching on what was about to happen. He quickly pulled his iPod from his pocket and the corner of his lips tucked into his cheek as he quickly clicked the selector wheel. After a moment he stopped, then took a deep breath as he clutched the earbuds tightly in his other hand. "Hey Beesly," he called.

"Yeah?"

"C'mere and see this," he said, and one would only have heard his voice crack had they been listening quite hard.

"Okay." She turned from a display of t-shirts near the exit, but then paused. "What's that?" she asked, frowning as she turned her head toward the open doorway.

"What's what?"

"That…it sounds like yelling."

"I don't know. We can go see in a minute; I just wanted you to see this real quick," Jim told her, and that intent listener would now have been rewarded with an _almost_ smothered note of urgency.

Pam had not been listening, though – at least to Jim. She took another two steps toward the door. "It's Michael," she reported. "He's yelling at…an old man?" She replaced the shirt she'd been holding. "I'll be right back," she said as she went out the door.

Jim stared out the door in disbelief. After a full minute he looked back down at the jewelry box in front of him and, with a long sigh, removed the lid and plucked the tiny box from within. As he replaced it and the iPod in his pocket, he finally spotted the camera that – it was clear from the look on his face – he realized had captured another failed attempt on film. He tried for one of his nonchalant smiles but fell far short, settling instead on a shrug. "A store? I mean…that's just dumb, right? Who would…?" He shook his head and staring at the floor. "That's dumb."

He slowly followed in Pam's footsteps, his hands deep in his pockets.

* * *

"Why don't you just get up? We all know you can!" Michael was yelling at the same older gentleman he had witnessed stepping out of his wheelchair to ride the Tower of Terror earlier that day.

"What in God's name are you talking about?" the man returned, just as loudly. Michael glanced at the camera, then back at the man.

"I saw you miraculously get outta that thing and get in that creepy broken elevator ride just a couple hours ago and now here you are, back in the chair and perpetating this charade!" He gestured violently at the camera. "I have it on _tape_, sir!"

"What's going on, Michael?" Dwight asked urgently, appearing at Michael's side and shooting a preemptive dirty look at the old man.

"I'll tell you what's going on," the man offered, wheeling closer. "Your friend here has lost his damn mind!"

"How _dare _you say such things about Michael Scott!" Dwight cried.

"How dare he say such things to _me_, you mean?" the man correctly harshly. The woman that had assisted him earlier exited the bakery across the way and hurried over.

"Dad? What's going on?" she asked, looking at the camera, Michael and Dwight, and finally her father.

"This stupid son of a—"

Michael's eyes bugged and he took a step closer. Dwight brushed past him. "Oh that's _it_, geezer," he growled. Michael put a hand on his shoulder and Dwight reluctantly took a step back.

"_You're_ insulting _me_?" Michael scoffed. "You're the _fraud_, Grandpa – abusing an already broken system!" He craned his neck for a moment. "That's not even _your _wheelchair – you stole it from the park!"

"That's a federal offense!" Dwight added.

"Fraud? Federal offense?" the woman repeated, looking baffled. "I have no idea…"

Michael shook his head, clearly disgusted. "Don't play innocent, lady – you're an accomplice! I saw you there, helping him!"

"I'll warn you not to talk to my daughter like that, bub," the old man warned. Dwight bent close before Michael could stop him, although it didn't seem that he was planning on that.

"Or what, huh? _Or what_?" he said in his face. The old man struggled to stand and his daughter pulled him back down gently. Dwight sneered. "Yeah, that's right. I'm trained in the _martial arts_!"

"I fought in _Korea_!" the old man countered, wheeling his chair into Dwight's leg. Dwight's hands clenched into fists.

"_Korea_ makes amazing toys!"

"All right, punk—"

"Whoa, _whoa_, _WHOA_!"

All action paused. The old man, half out of his wheelchair again; the now-angry woman clutching her father; the beet-red Dwight; Michael, his face twisted in anger (and perhaps excitement); Pam a few feet behind the action and looking anxious; Jim furthest in the background, most of the disappointment that had dominated his expression now cleared away by shock and dismay – all of them stopped and looked at the brunette banshee that had let out the piercing cry. Judy stood taller than her five foot three frame, her face pale but her cheeks aflame. She leveled her icy gaze on her charges first.

"Go. Over. There," she instructed in a low, frightening tone, gesturing with an open hand to a bench twenty feet away (even in this state she had remembered Disney employees do _not _simply point with one finger).

Amazingly Michael and Dwight obeyed.

After taking a moment to collect herself again, she managed a calming smile and stepped closer to the man and his daughter. Her voice cheery again, although quiet, she began a long explanation – only a phrase here and there were understandable; "so sorry for your trouble," "some of our more _challenged _guests," and "do you have dinner plans? Let me arrange something" were chief among them.

Pam and Jim approached Dwight and Michael on their bench. Nothing was said for a long minute, then finally Jim sighed. "Really Dwight? That guy's like eighty."

"And in a wheelchair," Pam added, glancing over at the other pair as Judy diffused the situation.

"That makes no difference, Jim," Dwight said stubbornly. "I was defending my fearless leader."

Michael looked at him more kindly than he had all day. "Thank you, Dwight," he said, his voice quaking slightly.

Jim jimmed. "Defending Michael? From what? Getting his foot run over?"

"Where were _you_ as his number two, Jim? Isn't that the _real _question?" Dwight pressed, his jaw jutting forward. Jim shook his head.

"That isn't even _close _to the real question."

Judy strolled over then and Pam looked at her sympathetically. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

Judy nodded. "I think so. I arranged a dinner for their family at the most expensive restaurant in the park and gave them some Disney dollars for souvenirs."

Michael's mouth fell open. "You _gave _them stuff?"

Judy stared at Michael longer than could be called comfortably. She finally glanced at Dwight, Jim and Pam. "Can you all excuse us for just a few minutes, please? Maybe get everyone together at the fountain?"

"Sure," Jim replied as he and Pam started off. Dwight remained firmly in place. "C'mon Dwight."

"I am not leaving Michael alone again."

Judy's eyes went narrow and that eerie look came over her face again. Michael looked at the camera, then cleared his throat. "Thank you Dwight, but I'll be fine. Go ahead," he assured his employee, sounding a little nervous.

Dwight stared between the two for a beat, then slowly rose and walked away. He was far clear before Judy shook her head and sighed.

"Michael," she began, her tone an impressive blend of stern, angry, tired and somehow still Disney friendly. "We need to talk."

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **Yes, that bit about Disney employees not pointing with one finger is true.

_Three _amazing bonus bits this chapter, fair readers - swing by Bears Eat Beets' homestead (aka profile), to see Jim's hats, his list of proposal plans (I have revamped it...it looks ten times better, so please let me know what you think), and _yes_, you can listen to the song Jim had all lined up to play...and let me tell you, it melts a frigid, bitchy heart like mine, so all you J-word fanatics - get the tissues. Seriously.

Great job guessing the song last time, by the way! Let's try this...

_Reviews mean a-lotta  
Warm my heart with your praise  
Reviews mean a-lotta  
Even just a phrase...  
Have no worries -  
I'll update in a few days  
Easy and problem-free  
Leave just a word for me  
Reviews mean a-lotta..._

If we crack 100 reviews with this chapter, I'll take you all to the Home of the Mouse! For free!

Nah. But I will be very smiley.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I...declare...NOTHING! Owning nothing, that is.**

Holy long chapter, Batman! I wanted to finish Hollywood Studios in one chapter, so it's a big one. (I heard you.) Read on...

* * *

Ten minutes later Michael and Judy sat completely alone on a bench near Dinosaur Gertie's Ice Cream of Extinction. The rest of the Scranton branch had split almost evenly in two – Jim had led an interested group to check out the _Indiana Jones _Epic Stunt Spectacular; Dwight had ordered a handful of others to see the Lights, Motors, Action! Extreme Stunt Show. They had all gone willingly, but the looks on their faces had betrayed their curiosity about the unnamed, yet probably more action-packed, showdown that was about to take place between their boss and their tour guide. Kevin had even attempted to take a few bets as he followed Jim. He stopped when it was clear no one would place money on Michael.

The two leaders were quiet, and the scene was as serious as it could be with a smiling green Apatosaurus as a backdrop. "How's your ice cream?" Judy finally asked, nodding toward the giant waffle cone Michael held. He jumped a little at the sound of her voice, but then nodded too.

"Good." A beat passed. "Thank you for asking. And buying it."

"You're welcome."

There was another silence, during which Michael only made eye contact with the camera and Judy twirled her Zippo between her index and middle fingers. She took a deep breath and looked at the regional manager as he took a large mouthful of chocolate ice cream.

"Michael, I…" Judy began, then shook her head slightly. "I can tell you're a man that really loves your job."

Michael looked surprised that this was her first real statement, but he quickly swallowed and nodded. "I do, yes."

"And I can also see how much you love all of your employees."

"That is also true."

"I mean, the work you must have gone through to get this trip for them? That couldn't have been easy – Disney isn't a company that makes deals like this, you know."

He glanced at her. "Really?"

"Really," she assured him.

Michael shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well, Judy, I've had years of experience with tough customers-" (at this Judy's eyes darted toward the camera for just an instant but she didn't interrupt) "-and I've heard myself referred to as a master of sales more than once. I was Dunder Mifflin's Salesman of the Year two years running."

"That sounds like quite an achievement," Judy replied genuinely. Michael raised his eyebrows.

"Yes it is," he said, just as genuinely.

Judy took a moment to consider her next words. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I really love my job too."

"Well…" he trailed off.

"No, Michael, I _really _do. And by getting involved with your employees – talking with them, laughing with them – I'm just trying to make sure they get the most out of this trip. The trip that _you _earned them. That's _my _job. I'm not trying to take them away from you."

Michael snorted, which resulted in a moment or two of spluttering as he cleared the ice cream from his nasal passages. Judy patiently clapped him on the back. When all was well again he shrugged.

"Well, you could never take them _away _from me, so I'm not worried about that. You just feel a little _desperate _sometimes, Judy, and that…wow, that gets _really _irritating. As a leader myself I'm just trying to give you some constructive feedback here."

Judy's lips parted a little but she forced them shut. After a pause she gave him a somber, "I'll keep that in mind." They were quiet another minute. "But I have to give you some as well." Michael's face registered dubious but she continued. "This place? It's kind of like my office. Granted I'm a low woman on the pole-" (she paused just to allow the "That's what she said" she knew was unavoidable) "-but while you all are here – in _my _office – I have to tell you when your behavior is inappropriate. And Michael," she breathed, waiting for him to look her in the eye, "what you and Dwight did today was _so _inappropriate."

Michael pursed his lips. "But I saw that…_man_, not four hours ago, stand up out of his chair-"

But he stopped as he saw Judy shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. Not even a little. You _can't _talk to other guests like that." She tucked some hair behind her ear. "And if you want to consider me the bad guy that's fine. But honestly, if you all weren't with me, you would have been escorted out of the park. That's that."

"That seems harsh," Michael criticized through a mouthful of ice cream and cone. Judy shrugged.

"Those are the rules. And as leaders, aren't we both supposed to make sure rules are followed?"

Michael pondered that, no doubt considering all the proud times in the past he had rebelled. "I suppose," he granted.

Judy put on a smile. "I think it's…valiant you want things fair for everyone, really. But don't worry about it. The policies set up here are just there to make sure _everyone _gets to enjoy as much as they possibly can. Just focus on making sure you and your employees have a great time, and I'll do the same…we couldn't possibly go wrong if we try to stick to doing that, right?"

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "Absofruitly."

"Good." Judy stood and held out her hand. "Can we call a truce then?" she requested. Michael glanced at the camera, then shook her hand.

"Glad we could fleece it out," he said in earnest. Judy blinked, but kept her grin.

"Me too."

* * *

Michael: (_still in front of the dinosaur; wearing a knowing look_) Yeah, I agreed to a truce with Judy. It was almost sad to see her gravel like that, but maybe now she'll lay off a little.

* * *

Judy: (_leaning against the fence surrounding Echo Lake; her head cocked_) I hope that helps some. I tried to appeal to him on his level. (_She smiles just a little._) I gave a variation of the same speech to the eighth grade kids I had here last week. It worked pretty well for them, so…

* * *

Jim and Pam brought up the rear as their group exited the theater following the _Indiana Jones _show.

"Jim, check it out!" Jim looked to the source of the address and found Kevin standing near an old army truck that was serving as a souvenir stand, pointing at some of Indy's trademark fedoras. "These are awesome."

"Those are cool, Kev," Jim answered, but it was Pam that had veered off toward the truck first. She plucked one of the hats from the shelf and plopped it on Jim's head when he joined them.

"Am I a bad ass now?" he joked. Pam gave him a very approving smile. He pulled off the fedora and checked the price tag. "It's forty bucks," he informed her, raising his eyebrows and starting to put it back. Pam snatched it out of his hand and handed it to the cashier. "What are you doing?" Jim asked, smiling.

"_You're _getting the hat."

"I've already bought two hats."

Pam smiled again. It was her rare half open-mouthed, eyebrows raised grin, usually reserved for much more exciting events than purchasing an overpriced hat. "But they aren't _this _hat."

"Forty bucks…?"

"It's worth it. Trust me," Pam said as she nodded, still smiling and widening her eyes a little. Jim gave the camera a surprised jim, a deceptive blush rising to his cheeks, then pulled out his wallet.

Kevin watched them before turning to cashier. "Do you guys have any bigger sizes?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

* * *

Pam: (_standing at the truck; her cheeks are a little pink as well_) It's a good hat. Don't you think? (_Her smile widens._)

* * *

The entire Scranton branch reconvened in front of the reproduction of Mann's Chinese Theater mid-park, where they hopped on the Great Movie Ride. Afterward Michael spent an inordinate amount of time attempting to fit his hands exactly into impressions made by celebrities, dismayed that the closest he came to matching was with Christie Brinkley and not Samuel L. Jackson, as he had hoped. Judy finally suggested they head toward the restaurant at which they had reservations.

"Good choice of place for dinner," Judy complimented as they walked toward the 50's Prime Time Café. Michael stared at her blankly, then nodded.

"…Yes. Thank you," he replied before speeding his pace to catch up with Darryl and Kelly. Judy looked toward Pam, who nodded.

"I thought it looked fun," Pam said. Judy now nodded. They made it to the diner and were quickly shown to a long table. Soon a waitress was upon them – a young woman in an old-fashioned uniform, her hair done up in an elaborate 50's 'do and a nametag reading **Aunt Kat**.

"Howdy kids," she greeted, snapping a piece of gum as she smiled at the table. "Glad you could make it for dinner. You all washed your hands before you got to the table, I hope?" When she got virtually no response she frowned. "You know better than that. I'll take your drink orders, but then I insist you all get to the washroom."

"What a bee-yotch," Michael muttered as "Aunt" Kat started collecting orders at the far end of the table.

"That's her job," Judy said. "Have you ever been to Ed Debevic's in Chicago?" Michael shook his head. "Okay, well…this is supposed to be set in the 1950's, and all the waitstaff treat you as if they're a bossy relative."

Michael shot a look at Pam. "Great choice," he told her sarcastically. Pam merely shrugged.

From the other end of the table Kat was laughing from her spot next to Meredith. "I'm afraid Dad doesn't let a full glass of straight gin out of his liquor cabinet."

Meredith sighed. "Fine. Which of these fancy drinks has the most alcohol in it?"

Without missing a beat Kat replied, "I've found you can never go wrong with Grandma's Picnic Punch."

"I'll have three of those then."

Kat let out a low whistle but moved on to Oscar, making a snappy remark about his bright orange shirt. Rather than get offended Oscar chuckled, which put an irritated look on Michael's face. It happened repeatedly as Kat made her way down the table, Michael growing increasingly agitated. By the time Kat reached him he was scowling openly. "What'll it be, Pops?"

"I'm not a 'Pops,'" he told her.

"Daddy-O?" she tried, grinning.

"I prefer _Mr. _Scott."

"And I prefer Empress, but you can't always get what you want," she chirped, snapping her gum. Michael slammed shut his menu.

"Diet Pepsi."

"Diet Coke it is," Kat replied, making a note and strolling away. Judy laid a hand on Michael's arm. He snatched it away.

"Thanks for keeping your cool," she said, undaunted.

Before Michael could reply a high whistle cut through the noise of the restaurant. "Okay, Prime Time Café patrons!" a young man with slicked-back hair announced. "We've got a special group with us – the Brighton Woods High School Spartan Singers are here tonight and they agreed to grace us with a little ditty. Would you like to hear them?"

A cheer erupted and Andy sprung up from his seat. "_Yes_!" he cried, then squeezed Angela's shoulder. "I'm gonna go sing with them; they'll love it," he told her as he squeezed his way past the table.

"I'm sure," Angela said quietly.

Andy took a spot in the group of singers, turning to their sponsor and offering his hand. "Andy Bernard. Cornell alum. Leader and featured falsetto of the award winning vocal group Here Comes Treble," he introduced himself. The man was too stunned to respond. Andy then smiled at the rest of the group. "Let's do this, guys!" He eyed a blonde next to him. "Does your name happen to be Jamie?" he asked quietly.

* * *

Andy: (_sitting on a bench outside the restaurant; smothering frustration_) Well, despite the fact that I myself had performed the number they were about to do _countless_ times, and I _told_ them this, I was _not _welcomed into the group. But perseverance is the Andrew Bernard way, not to mention a trait I know a certain regional manager really admires, so I stuck around. (_He nods_.) They kindly asked me to leave the restaurant. (_He drums his hands against his knees._) Not the result I expected.

* * *

The group had moved on to their final attraction at the park – the much-anticipated (for one receptionist, anyway), Magic of Disney Animation. After a fifteen minute presentation by a Disney cast member on how some of the beloved characters in Disney films are developed, they were let out into a huge concourse where there were several activities from which to choose. With no hesitation Pam took Jim's hand and pulled him off toward the alcove labeled **Animation Academy**. Dwight watched them and approached Andy.

"The time for our second challenge has arrived," he told him in a conspiratorial tone. Andy looked at Dwight in confusion.

"I thought that Jedi thing was our second challenge."

"Well it was, but Judy…Michael changed it. It's been stricken from the records."

"Oh. Okay. So we're having a draw-off?" Andy asked good-naturedly as they began walking.

"Yes."

"Cool. I used to doodle a lot at Cornell my professors yakkity-yakked up front."

"Fascinating," Dwight responded sarcastically.

Angela followed behind them, watching the interaction with interest. She smiled at Dwight's retort, but when she caught the camera watching she banished the expression immediately.

Soon a small Hispanic man let them into the art space with a smile. Pam and Jim, as any students who know they'll be chattering do, took seats in the back. Andy and Angela found seats in a middle row and Andy pointed the extra seat next to him out to Dwight, but he was already striding confidently toward the front row.

Andy smiled at Angela. "I'm _totally _going to take this one," he assured her. She gave him a nod.

"Good."

Andy's next remark was cut short by a long thin object making direct contact with his temple. "Ah! What the…" He looked toward Dwight, who was smirking. "What the hell?"

"It's a Sharpie. To finalize your drawing."

"Did you have to _throw _it?"

"Yes."

Andy shook his head. The instructor stepped up to the podium, introduced himself as Eduardo, and informed his forty or so students that today's character was Winnie the Pooh. Dwight found the camera.

"Excellent," he pronounced quietly, smiling wider. "A _bear_."

Eduardo began explaining the first step with the help of an overhead projection. Pam dutifully picked up her pencil, but frowned at her boyfriend who hadn't done the same. "You're not drawing?" she asked as she drew the horizontal and vertical guidelines as Eduardo did the same up front. Jim shook his head as he rested it against his hand. "Why?"

"I'd rather watch you," he said simply, smiling. "Consider me your assistant art_eest_."

Pam just smiled as she sketched a circle. All was more or less quiet as Eduardo let his class. Toward the end he began strolling around, giving help and complimenting sketches. He stopped at Dwight's desk and his eyes widened.

"Wow," he finally remarked. "Extra points for creativity."

Dwight nodded knowingly. The camera captured Andy scowling as it moved closer to Dwight, but as they neared he slapped his hand over his paper. "Not til the end," he said brusquely.

Ten minutes later Eduardo said his goodbyes and the new artists exited with their extremely rare free Disney souvenirs. Dwight and Andy met in the aisle, keeping their drawings hidden from each other. "So…how is this being decided?" Andy questioned. "By Michael?"

"No," Dwight answered quickly, then nodded toward Jim, where he was still seated with Pam. "Our immediate superior will be the judge."

Angela's face was doubtful. "Are you _sure _that's a good idea?" she asked. "Jim doesn't like y--…doesn't like extra responsibility," she finished, somewhat lamely. Dwight nodded.

"It'll be fine."

The two men, Angela in tow, approached Jim and Pam. "See. I can't put my scribbles on paper when you're next to me drawing like that." Pam shrugged as Jim looked up. "What's up?" he asked, already looking amused.

"We need you to decide which of us has the better drawing," Andy told him.

"We can put both on the fridge, guys, there's enough room," Jim said, smirking at the camera.

"Just decide, Jim," Dwight instructed.

"Are you sure Pam shouldn't judge? She is an…artist," Angela attempted again, nervously.

"Pam can be the tiebreaker," Dwight said.

Jim's brows met. "How could there be a tie if only _I'm _voting?"

"Then she can…offer her expert opinion. If there's a discrepancy," Dwight reworded.

"No discrepancy possible if I'm the only judge," Jim pointed out.

"I'll help if you need it, okay Jim?" Pam put forward helpfully. Jim nodded, his eyes matching hers twinkle for twinkle.

"Okay, let's see 'em." Andy held up his drawing first. Jim studied it critically. It was a perfectly serviceable Winnie the Pooh. "Not bad, not bad," Jim ruled. Andy looked proud. Jim looked to Dwight. "Okay, Dwight. Your submission please."

Dwight produced his sheet of paper. Jim immediately clamped his hand over his mouth, then molded the reaction into a thoughtful gesture, taking his elbow with his other hand as he squinted at the drawing. Pam simply bit her lips with a force that turned the surrounding skin white. Andy started chuckling. Angela appeared to be a mix of stunned and possibly impressed.

To say Dwight had taken artistic license was an understatement. This Pooh was a Pooh in head shape only. From there the friendly eyebrows had been exchanged for angry ones. His nose, usually rounded and soft-looking, sported flaring nostrils. However, the most noticeable change was undoubtedly Pooh's mouth. Where a sweet smile normally resided there was instead a set of sharp, realistic fangs, clamped around what appeared to be a dead salmon, all captured in sure, swift strokes of black Sharpie.

"Hmm," Jim provided, clearly not trusting his voice with anything more complex.

"Tuna, come on. What is there to think about? That looks _nothing _like Winnie the Pooh," Andy said.

"Shut up," Dwight spat.

"Dwight, Andy, Jim is the judge. Don't disrupt him while he's…judging," Pam chided them gently, her voice almost completely free of a quiver of laughter.

Jim heaved a deep breath. "Thank you, Pam," he said from behind his hand, not bringing himself to look at her. Finally he folded his hands in front of him.

"I proclaim the winner of this contest to be…Dwight," Jim declared somberly. Dwight joyously pumped his fist.

"_Yeah_!"

"_What_?!" Andy exploded at the same moment. "Tuna, are you _kidding _me?!"

"No, Andy. I kid you not."

"But Winnie the Pooh eats honey, and is cute…his looks like some crazy devil bear," Andy spluttered.

"I agree with Jim's decision," Pam said. "While Andy recreated the traditional Winnie the Pooh fairly accurately, Dwight took the Pooh concept to another level. It carries a touch of surrealism, and…Dadaism. And cubism."

"…What?" Andy finally managed, his eyes slits.

Jim looked at her so lovingly that Pam started blushing. "I agree, Pam. Thank you for your expert opinion."

"Yes. Thank you, Pam. And Jim," Dwight said, then pulled a red Sharpie from his back pocket. "Jim, can you make a note of my winning status here?"

"Gladly," Jim accepted, taking Dwight's drawing and the marker. Andy stormed out of the room. After one last glance at the victor, Angela followed her fiancé.

* * *

Dwight: (_outside the amphitheater for Fantasmic!, Hollywood Studios' nighttime spectacular; still grinning like a champion_) We are now tied. A tie is only a point away from a win. And believe me, I plan on scoring that next point. I—

(_Dwight stops short as he looks to his left. Angela is standing there watching him, tugging at her ponytail and smiling. When she sees that the camera has focused on her, she jumps and hurries into the arena. Dwight turns back to the camera and his smile, though it seems impossible, stretches even further._)

* * *

The seats from which they watched Fantasmic! were fantas_tic _– they were in the middle of the outdoor amphitheater and only ten rows from the front. Currently Sorcerer Mickey stood at the top of the manmade rocky outcropping, magically sending huge showers of sparks into the air. The camera turned to catch Pam snuggling into Jim's shoulder, looking up at him with love and perhaps a bit of expectation. He kept his eyes on the show as he smiled back. Although the dark and music obscured the scene somewhat, the small heave her body gave as she turned back to the show made her sigh and twinge of disappointment unmistakable.

A row behind them Kevin leaned over to Phyllis. "Can I switch seats with you?" he asked over the noise. Phyllis looked at him strangely but stood, and the two awkwardly shuffled around each other. Kevin sat back down, then fished in his shopping bag. He pulled out his fedora and put it on, then smiled at Judy, who was now to his immediate right. She gave him a smile back.

"Hi," Kevin said.

"Hi," she answered. Kevin continued watching her. Her eyebrows knitted together a little as she broke his intent gaze and turned back to the show. Kevin didn't do the same, which it was obvious Judy noticed in her periphery. She glanced at the camera briefly as she joined the crowd in a burst of applause.

* * *

Long after the amphitheater emptied, one lone soul was visible at the very bottom of the seats, tucked away in a corner. The cherry of whatever he was smoking glowed on an inhale. A custodian approached him.

"Sir, you need to leave – and you definitely can't smoke in here," he said.

"No worries, my friend," Creed said breezily, taking another hit. "I've got plenty to share." The custodian took a long look around, spotting the camera. "They're cool; they're with me."

The custodian breathed a sigh of relief and took a seat next to Creed.

* * *

After they had stepped off the bus back at the resort Michael looked at Judy. "Would you care to toast our new agreement at the pool bar?" he asked her. She looked surprised.

"Sure," she agreed.

"I'll come," Kevin said immediately.

"Kev-o! My man! Joinin' the party! Anyone else?" Michael invited, looking at his employees hopefully.

"I wouldn't mind a drink," Pam said. Jim glanced at her, then shrugged.

"Sure," he added.

Most of the other employees agreed and Michael happily led his group to the bar. Orders were placed and they assembled on stools and an open table. A few minutes later Michael held his screwdriver aloft and looked at Judy. "To the merger that occurred today. Judy…what's your last name?"

"Sloan," Judy provided, taking her Long Island from the bartender and smiling.

"Judy Sloan, welcome to the Dunder Mifflin family," Michael said grandly.

"You already welcomed her to our family at the airport a few days ago," Oscar pointed out.

"This one's _official_," Michael said hastily, rolling his eyes at the camera. "May our co-reign be a peaceful and pres…proster…"

"Prostitute?" Jim tried, helpfully jimming from the table.

"A preposterous one," Michael said firmly.

"No doubt about that," Stanley muttered. Judy only grinned again and clinked glasses.

"Cheers," she seconded.

The group turned back to their individual conversations. Pam invited Judy to join them and Kevin followed, squeezing between Judy and Oscar. Judy did her best to casually scoot closer to Pam.

"That show tonight was cool," Kevin said to Judy. She nodded.

"It _is_ great." There was a pause. "It's my husband's favorite nighttime show."

Kevin looked as crestfallen as Kevin could. "You're…married…?"

She nodded again. "Four years this August," she replied, smiling gently.

There was a long pause. "Oh," Kevin finally said.

* * *

Judy: (_near the pool_) Yes, I really _am _married. I wasn't trying to be rude. It seemed relevant to point out. Soon.

* * *

Kelly was presenting a long list of her purchases thus far to Pam, who was sipping on a beer and politely zoning out while nodding occasionally. "…and I found the _cutest _purse today, with Maleficent on it? I mean, like, yeah, she's a villain, but she's pretty cool looking and I can wear it when I'm having, like, a bad day. It'll be like a sign, like, when I carry _that _purse? Uh-uh, stay _away_ from me! But it's still totally cute, so it's fine…oooh, and then I got this _awesome _necklace that's just, like, little dangly charms? Like, all kinds of different charms – I mean, there's a glass slipper, and like, that pumpkin carriage thing, and, like, so many other cute little things, and it's all in silver - which is _so _much cuter than gold, yuck! - with little pink beads in between the charms and stuff. I _love _it. Omigod, I _completely _forgot! I got this little t-shirt with Minnie Mouse on it and it's, like, all-washed out looking and old, which is _so_ cool right now. Like, you _totally_ can't wear a gross brand new t-shirt; old is _so_ trendy. But here's the best part: there are little sequins on the polka dots of her bow! Aaah! I nearly _died_, it's so cute – and plus it's totally form fitting so it, like, hugs all my curves and will just look, like, _awesome_…I have the _perfect_ shoes to go with it, they even have little bows on _them_, too, isn't that the most _awesome_ thing?" Kelly asked, pausing for a reaction that Pam was too spaced out to give. She was saved from a reprimanding by Darryl.

"Hey Pam, where's Jim? They got the Phillies game on the TV at the bar," he asked.

Pam jumped, but blinked twice and looked up at Darryl. "Oh…he went to make a call." She looked at him beseechingly. "Wanna join us?"

Darryl's smile was almost sympathetic. "Nah, Howard's at bat. Don't wanna miss it."

"Okay." Pam tried to smile as he walked away. Kelly grabbed her arm.

"So anyway, Pam, these shoes – you'd _love _them…"

* * *

All that was present of him at first was his voice. "Greetings from the happiest place on earth. Did I call too late?"

The view consisted only of the hotel rooms as they passed, but finally around a corner Jim was visible on a staircase, his elbows on his knees and cell phone at his ear.

"I figured. How are you?"

"Good, yeah. It's been a lot of fun."

"She's fine. She's at the bar with everyone else."

A soft chuckle. "Nothing's wrong."

"I'm not questioning your mom perceptiveness. I'm fine."

"Um…no. Not yet."

Jim leaned back against the step above him. "Well it isn't for lack of trying." His tone was almost lighthearted, but his face betrayed it.

"Twice so far." He rubbed a hand across his face.

"I think she knows. I don't know. Can't exactly ask her."

"Yeah, I know, but Mom…"

"Yes…"

He sighed, his hand now in his hair. "I know she doesn't _need_ it, Mom, but...she _deserves _it."

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **Did you know the real Mindy Kaling really _does _love be-bowed shoes? She does. Check her blog (it's hilarious).

Sorry to end on a down note. Jim's _frustrated_, guys, and - sorry - but too much of a romantic to be practical sometimes. I had to make that clear. If I could just insert a picture of John Krasinski making some incredibly emotive face I would, because he's great at that and it's more subtle than my phone call. But I can't.

Bonus bit - check the ol' profile for the infamous drawings!

Now my biggest struggle of every chapter...

_A whole new chapter -  
That's what you'll get if you review  
You'll be a superstar -  
So wunderbar!  
You'll make me smile  
If you leave a review..._


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I swear, officer, it's not mine! I do, however, own a jug of pomegranate lemonade. Surprisingly delicious.**

This chapter's shorter than most, but that's how I've decided I'm going to break down Epcot. It's a huge park, with lots to do. It doesn't mean you're getting less story, folks; it'll just be spread out more.

Code word: thanks to ktface3 (she'll know why), and the often imitated, never duplicated Mr. 138 (he'll know why). I hope the rest of you enjoy, too.

* * *

Judy: (_near the breakfast buffet_) Well, today we're going to Epcot. It should be fun – it's personally my favorite park, and _yes_, I'm aware that makes me a total dork. I'm okay with that. (_Her grin widens._) After our talk yesterday things _did_ seem to go more smoothly with Michael. We had a fun night at the pool bar and really seem to be on better terms. I'm actually optimistic about today. (_Her eyes narrow some._) This is where someone probably says "famous last words," right?

* * *

Stanley: (_listens to someone off camera, then nods all too knowingly_) Mm-hmm.

* * *

Michael: (_at the bus stop, the rest of the group visible behind him_) I think Judy and I are fine. We sealed our truce with booze last night, which makes it a binding contract in the business world. Plus we agreed on a code word, so when I get "inappropriate" (_he uses sarcastic air quotes_), or – more likely - _she_ gets too clingy I can subtly let her know she needs to cool it without blurting out nonsense like Jan made me do in front of Christian. (_He looks left and right, then lowers his voice._) The code word is Pooh. (_Michael chuckles._)

* * *

Judy: (_her smile faltering_) Yeah, not my first choice, especially since I have a feeling I'll be using it somewhat regularly.

* * *

"So like I said at breakfast, this park is split into two distinct sections – one is called Future World, which focuses on science and technology, and the other is World Showcase, which is like a permanent world's fair with several different nations represented," Judy explained as she led the group to Epcot's entrance.

Michael stepped up next to Judy as she led them toward Spaceship Earth. "We're going in the giant golf ball?" Michael asked, looking upward.

"There's actually a ride in here," Judy said.

"A _golf _ride?"

"No. It's a…it's just a ride."

"Tiger-Tiger-Tiger Woods, y'all!" Michael quoted, badly.

Judy sighed, but kept a small smile. "This isn't a golf ball."

Michael gave a skeptical look to the camera, but decided not to pursue the guide's ignorance. "So we'll be soaking in the culture today, you said?" he asked instead.

"Absolutely."

Michael breathed deeply, satisfied. "Interesting. You know I have employees from a variety of different backgrounds. Really gives the office some spice."

"That's great. Many of the cast members in the World Showcase are from the countries-"

"And I've hosted many cultural events to open the eyes of my less-different employees – you know, all the…plain white ones," Michael continued. Judy glanced at the camera, then nodded.

"Well, learning is important," she said, seemingly at a loss for anything else.

"I agree. Has anyone told you about the group I started – Diversity Tomorrow?"

"Um, actually no."

As Michael regaled Judy with tales of his (widely considered disastrous) "diversity day" activities, the camera panned back to catch a delighted smile forming on Dwight's face. "_Wunderbar_!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Jim asked.

Dwight pointed as his map. "There's a pavilion devoted to Germany here," he stated.

"Yeah…I remember that from last time I was here. It's actually pretty cool," Jim said.

Dwight gave him a look. "Obviously." Dwight then looked thoughtful. "I wonder if there will be strudel-making demonstrations. Or perhaps an early twentieth century history lesson, debunking rumors and myths."

Jim jimmed. "One can only hope."

"We're actually having dinner at the restaurant there," Pam told Dwight. He raised his eyebrows.

"Do they serve schnitzel?"

"It's a buffet. I think they serve everything."

"Excellent." He sped up to join Michael and no doubt share the news. Pam noticed Jim's strange look.

"Why are we eating there?" he asked.

Pam shrugged. "I thought it would cheer him up, after everything that happened at Toby's party," she explained, only meeting his eyes briefly.

There was a short pause.

"That was nice of you," Jim said, a little awkwardly as he looked around.

"Thanks."

Another pause.

"And seeing Dwight in the Disneyfied land of his forefathers…it's got potential," Jim said, sending a hesitant grin her way.

Pam returned the gesture somewhat, now looking at him. "I thought so too."

* * *

After Spaceship Earth the group headed left, stopping first at a huge, mirrored building with rainbow panels along the side and the title **The Universe of Energy** orbiting a sphere that rose out of the fountain out front. Judy explained the general premise of the attraction inside, pointing out that during the highlight of the ride they would get an up close and personal look at the original source of fossil fuel.

"Fossils?" Kevin guessed. Judy nodded.

"Yes, but fossils _before _they became fossils." She raised her eyebrows.

"…Dinosaurs?" Kevin guessed again. Judy nodded again and Kevin started to grin, but quickly stifled it.

A few steps behind him, Angela scowled.

* * *

Kevin: (_in front of the fountain at the entrance; somberly_) I don't want to give her the wrong impression. I'm _not_ down with O.P.P.

* * *

Angela: (_in front of the same fountain; looking exasperated_) _Why _is this place so infatuated with dinosaurs, especially when they can't even get the timeframe correct? (_She listened to a question from off-camera and rolled her eyes. She explains as if talking to a toddler_) They co-existed with man, and are _supposed _to be called 'Jesus horses.'

* * *

The ride – Ellen's Energy Adventure - began with a movie. Ellen DeGeneres told of a dream she had of being on _Jeopardy!_, but all the categories dealt with energy, a subject about which she knew little. The fact that she was also playing against Albert Einstein made winning even less likely. (When Alex Trebek entered, Michael's "Oh great, _this _guy" was unmistakable, as was a soft "Pooh" from Judy.) Thankfully upon awakening, Ellen's neighbor – the one and only Bill Nye the Science Guy – promised to teach her all there was to know about the subject.

The camera didn't miss Dwight's look of surprise and delight when he saw this "pillar of the science community" again. However, as the slow-moving ride vehicles moved the audience into a scene from prehistoric times, complete with huge audio-animatronic dinosaurs, his face melted into a look of what appeared to be worry and possibly fear. Each roar and squawk elicted a jump from him, and once he looked ready to leap from the car altogether.

When the camera managed to cut to Jim for a moment, his face was a mask of pure delight.

* * *

Upon exiting Dwight pushed several of his coworkers out of the way to get to Judy. She was talking with Phyllis, but Dwight wedged his way between them. "I do _not _appreciate you endangering our lives in that way, especially if I'm not allowed to bring in anything with which to defend my fellow office workers," he told her, his tone angry.

"I'm…I'm sorry?" Judy stammered.

"Fact: there were several species of carnivorous dinosaurs in there that could have turned on any or all of us at a moment's notice."

Judy blinked. "They…those dinosaurs were _fake_," she told Dwight, the concern for his loose grip on reality evident in her voice. Dwight rolled his eyes.

"I realize that they weren't _living _dinosaurs-"

"This time," Jim added, smirking from behind the pair.

"-but they were even more dangerous," Dwight continued, then paused for effect. "They were _robots_. They could turn on us at any time."

Judy stared at him a long moment. "We refer to them as audio-animatronics, and they're perfectly safe. They're operated from a control room, and they're bolted to the floor," she assured Dwight. He returned her stare viciously, then shook his head.

"Idiot," he muttered as he wandered away.

* * *

Dwight: (_standing in front of a fountain mid-park; miffed_) What kind of explanation is _that_? Hasn't she ever seen _Westworld_?

* * *

Jim: (_at a refreshments kiosk, grinning_) I haven't seen _Westworld_, but I _have _seen it parodied on an episode of _The Simpsons. _(_He holds up his camera, his smile growing_.) I feel completely safe.

* * *

Judy took the group to an attraction called Test Track next, mysteriously saving something called Mission: SPACE until "later." Everyone boarded a car, save Angela, and Andy, despite appearing desperate to check it out. They sat together on a bench and looked at a map of the park, and the cameraman stood a good distance away as he filmed them.

"I wonder what Michael will have us do today," he said as he perused.

"You aren't supposed to question what…Michael will do," Angela scolded, rushing the second half of her response. Andy's face twisted.

"I wasn't questioning Michael, I was just…never mind."

"What?" Angela demanded.

"I _said_ never mind," he stated.

"If you're upset about that silly ride then go get in line. I just don't enjoy…" she waved her hand vaguely, "unnecessary exhilaration."

"I'm not upset about the ride," he said, then tacked on a quiet, "and no kidding."

"What?" she repeated, a little more forcefully.

Andy frowned at her momentarily, but soon his face simply registered confusion. "I just wish I got you sometimes." He then forced a smile. "Thank goodness I have the rest of our lives to figure you out, huh?"

Angela scratched at her knee. "Mm-hmm," she replied, a little absently.

Andy put an arm around her. "Best challenge I'll ever conquer," he told her winningly, and she smiled some. He squeezed her shoulders. "In _every _way," he added, in a way that was more than slightly suggestive. He turned back to his map in time to miss Angela's smile make a hasty departure. "Whatever we do, I just hope it isn't something spinny," he continued, half to himself. "A few too many drunken dizzy bat races at Cornell ruined that for the ol' Nard Dog's stomach."

Angela said nothing verbally, but her raised eyebrow contributed its two cents' worth.

* * *

**A/N Pt II**: No bonus bits for this guy, just my ever-present reminder to check out allears . net (link on the profile), if you'd like to read/see more about the wonderful world o' Disney!

What I do want - nay, _need _- to say is thank you so, so much for all your reviews - they've been astounding! I never thought this idea would be so popular, but I was sorely mistaken. All of you that have reviewed each chapter...wow, you are incredible. I've tried to send a note back to each of you that leaves a "signed" note, so I hope you've received them. As for my "anonymous" pals - officejam and gracie, amongst many others - your kind words are just as appreciated. I'll try and get us through the episodeless summer with style (although not class because hey, Michael's involved).

And for a short chapter, a short song...

_Please show some love  
Mm-mm-mm-mm  
Please show some love -  
For that is what makes this divine..._


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Do I _look _like I own anything? Oh wait...you can't see me. Well, no, I don't. I mean, I own some stuff, but not any of this.**

Let's check back in with the DM crew as they finish touring Epcot's Future World, a'ight?

* * *

After riding Test Track the group headed across the walkway to the west side of Future World. Pam caught sight of the giant glass pyramids and pointed excitedly.

"Oh, that's my favorite!" she gushed.

"What is it?" Phyllis asked Judy. Judy held out a hand to Pam, grinning.

"Ask the expert."

Pam grinned. "Imagination! It's got the ride with Figment." She turned her smile upwards toward Jim. "It's my favorite."

Jim smiled back. "I know."

"Like, favorite thing of all."

"I know."

Pam eyed him critically. "No exaggeration. It's my favorite ride of _any_, at _all_ of the parks. Since I was a little kid."

Jim chuckled. "Yes, I know."

Pam studied him for a moment as he continued to smile, then flashed her own wide-eyed grin at the camera as they headed inside.

* * *

Jim: (_in front of the Imagination pavilion, grinning and shaking his head_) Yes, I _did_ know that already. And no, this isn't in my plan.

* * *

Pam: (_at the ride's exit; still smiling, but her eyes keep darting away from the camera_) Yeah, it was still great. (_A pause_.) Nothing special- or, ah, I mean different from last time but…you know. Yeah. Still really fun. (_She nods a little too vigorously_.)

* * *

The Scranton branch all opted to ride Journey Into Imagination With Figment (and unanimously voted to skip an attraction called Honey, I Shrunk The Audience). As they exited Michael was nodding in approval.

"That was pretty fun," he observed.

Pam smiled. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I bet Figment really hated when Barney came along and ruined the awesomeness that once was purple dinosaurs," Jim joked. Pam nodded, her smile not quite as big as it had been a second or two earlier. Jim glanced at her as if waiting for a bigger reaction but a confused jim was shared with the camera when he got none.

"The guy that played the doctor was from something, though, and I can't remember what," Michael stated.

"_Monty Python_?" Jim supplied.

"No, that's not his name."

Jim sighed. "Eric Idle?"

Michael snapped his fingers. "That's it…but what's he from?" He thought for a moment as Jim smirked. "_A Fish Called Wanda_?" Michael wondered aloud.

"Close," Jim said.

Michael pointed suddenly. "Wait! I know, I know. He's Mr. Bean!" He chuckled, delighted by his discovery.

Jim nodded. "Yes. There it is."

Michael smiled at the camera. "I knew I'd get it."

* * *

After the Imagination pavilion Judy took her group to The Land. "There are two great attractions here. Well, there are three attractions, but two are – in my opinion – not to be missed. One is a boat ride through our greenhouses called Living With The Land; the other is an amazing new addition called Soarin'. I'll let that one be a surprise," she promised.

They headed first for Soarin'. The line was long but moved quickly; soon enough they reached the end of the queue and were ready to board. They filed into an empty row of seats, and Michael looked upset upon spotting Kevin in the seat to his left and Phyllis on his right. "Does this thing go up in the air?" Michael asked, leaning around Kevin to address Judy a few seats away. She nodded at him and he immediately unbuckled his safety belt and started getting out of his seat.

"Sir, we'll need you to sit back down," a friendly attendant said, drawing closer.

"Just a second. Dwight, switch seats with me."

Dwight moved to unbuckle his belt but Judy placed a firm hand over his. "No, Michael, just take a seat," she instructed.

"I will. I'm going to take Dwight's seat," he told her.

"Sir, please, we'd like to start the ride and we need you fastened in first."

"I'm not fastening myself in there," he said testily, gesturing towards the now-empty seat between Phyllis and Kevin.

"Michael, please," Judy said quietly.

"Judy, no. I'm not…" He glanced at the camera, then his two abandoned employees, before leaning toward her. "I'm not putting myself between those two," he said, his voice dropping to an exaggerated whisper at the end. "Those two" both frowned.

"Michael, you'll be fine," Judy stressed. Michael slapped a structural piece above her head.

"I don't even know how strong this is-"

"Um, sir, you seat…?"

"Michael-"

"It could snap like a twig-"

"Michael."

The attendant looked helpless. "Sir?" she repeated weakly.

Michael's eyebrows went up. "I'm too important to risk endangering like that," he continued.

Dwight nodded soberly. "He's right," he agreed, and started unbuckling his seatbelt again. Judy's hand, formerly resting atop Dwight's, now clamped around his like a vise. He winced slightly.

"_Stop_," she said in her frightening tone. Dwight's eyes flitted downward and stared at her hand in surprise. She looked back to Michael. "Michael," she repeated in that fierce whisper.

"Judy, I'm sorry, but I won't-"

"_Pooh_," she said, her voice deathly quiet and her eyes full of fire. Michael's mouth hung open. He stood motionless for a second, then wordlessly returned to his seat. Phyllis was hiding her face behind her hand, but once he was buckled in she glared at Michael. "Thanks for that," she murmured.

The seats began ascending in front of a giant screen. "Shu-- just sit still," he said under his breath, sending a nervous look at the camera.

* * *

Once the group had finished soaring over the beautiful and varied landscape of California, most of them headed to the north side of the pavilion to board small boats that were the mode of transport for an attraction called Living With The Land. "This is the greenhouse tour, correct?" Dwight drilled Judy as they settled in to the bench-style seating aboard the boat.

"Yes it is. Do you enjoy gardening?" she asked. Dwight scoffed at her.

"Gardening is for pleasure. It's a hobby. I am a _farmer_. The land is my _life_."

"You're a farmer?" Judy repeated, looking surprised.

Dwight nodded. "My cousin Mose and I run Schrute Farms. Our primary crop is beets."

"Wow. That's really cool, Dwight. I've never met a beet farmer."

"Not surprising. Farmers hardly have the luxury of leaving their work to take frivolous vacations to cushy resorts like this. Thankfully, I could get away and leave Mose to tend the fields."

"That _is_ lucky," Judy said.

Dwight was quiet a moment as the boat began to move, taking them first past scenes of various biomes – the tropics, the desert, prairies. As the first greenhouse loomed ahead Judy turned to Dwight. "We use all kinds of new, experimental techniques here," she explained. "There's a behind-the-scenes tour I could arrange for you to take if-"

But Dwight held up a hand. "I'm not interested in 'new' and 'experimental.' The Schrutes have grown and harvested beets the same way for generations. I would never dishonor my family by changing our tradition with something I learned at an amusement park," he said resolutely.

Judy's response was a wide-eyed blink.

"Do you grow beets here?"

"Um…you know what? I don't think so."

Dwight turned to give the camera a disgusted look.

The trip continued in silence until the boat reached a greenhouse where a pile of pumpkins labeled Cinderella Pumpkins was topped with a particularly interesting one. The automated voice explained that these had been grown in special molds. Judy jumped as she felt Kelly grip her shoulders tightly from behind. Her shrill excitement drowned out the narration.

"_Omigod_! Omigod, Judy, I _have_ to get one of those Mickey pumpkins! They're shaped like _Mickey_! _Aaah_! I'm _dying_ of their cuteness! Omigod, they are the cutest! Things! _Ever_! Where can I get one?"

* * *

Kelly: (_at the ride's exit; arms folded tightly and disbelief dripping from her words_) Um, Judy said those pumpkins weren't for sale. I offered her, like, so much money and she just kept saying I couldn't buy one. (_She shakes her head_.) Something you can't _buy_? That's the _dumbest_ thing I've ever heard.

* * *

After The Land it only made sense that the group headed to The Seas – not just metaphorically, but because it was the last unvisited pavilion on the west side of Future World. "This pavilion underwent a refurbishment in 2004," Judy explained, pausing as she walked backwards toward the entrance. "It used to be known as The Living Seas, but with the popularity of a certain ocean-centric movie-" she held out a hand to the garden on the group's left featuring sculptures of Nemo, Marlin, Dory and the rest of the _Finding Nemo_ cast of characters, "-the Imagineers decided to use that movie's characters to retheme the outdated pavilion." She continued walking and explaining.

The camera swung back to reveal Stanley standing still, staring at the garden for a long moment before shaking his head and slowly following after his coworkers.

* * *

Stanley: (_in front of a giant tank featuring tropical sea creatures, frowning_) I do _not_ understand the appeal of that little fish.

* * *

"This attraction is so cool," Judy said as the group stood gathered outside a theater with a sign reading **Turtle Talk with Crush**. "It's completely interactive. Crush – who, for those that don't know, is the giant turtle who teaches Marlin and Dory about riding the East Australian Current in the movie – will actually talk with you and answer your questions."

"How?" Pam asked, then laughed as she and Judy said in unison, "Disney magic."

"Pooh," Michael spat, earning the disparaging look of a mother standing near him with her two young children. Meanwhile Dwight sidled up next to Andy.

"This will be our third challenge," he said quietly, his face alarmingly close to Andy's ear. Andy jumped, then looked at Dwight.

"Talking to a cartoon turtle?" Andy asked.

"_Stumping_ a cartoon turtle," Dwight corrected. Andy nodded.

"Should be no problem for a _highly educated_ guy…and hmm, which of us is _that_?" he wondered, smirking.

"Ugh, ugh, Cor_nell_," Dwight sneered as they entered the now-empty theater and took seats on the floor up front.

A few minutes later the lights dimmed, the screen in front of them became a cool, blue expanse of ocean and out swam Crush. He offered a "bodacious" welcome to his audience then asked if anyone had any questions for him. Like two hyperactive children Dwight and Andy thrust their hands in the air, waving them urgently. "Um, okay, let's start with the weird dude up front, with the gnarly glasses," Crush said, seemingly looking at Dwight.

Dwight's expression soured for an instant, but then he grunted a triumphant "ha!" in Andy's direction and leapt to his feet. "Turtle." He paused, and from the look on his face it was clear he hadn't formulated a question yet. "What…is…algae?" he finally produced.

"Well, algae is that grody green stuff that grows in water that little fish dudes totally love chowing down on," Crush explained. "Awesome question, dude."

Dwight looked flustered. "That was in no way a scientific answer," he argued.

"True, true – but let's ask everyone else: was that a radical enough answer for you guys?" Crush asked, surveying the audience. They cheered and Crush twirled through the water happily. "Excellent! Who's next?"

Andy was now the one that looked pleased as he stood, without waiting to be called upon.

"Whoa, eager dude!" Crush laughed.

"That's how I roll," Andy said smugly. "My question is…" He glanced around nervously, then smiled again. "How many…drops of water are there…in…the…ocean?" he asked slowly.

"Oh man! That is a tough call, dude…I'm totally sure that there are way more drops of water than an old surfer like me could count," Crush answered.

"So are you saying you don't know?"

"I know there's enough, dude!"

Crush and the audience laughed good-naturedly and Andy took a seat. "Totally stumped him," Andy whispered to Dwight. He frowned and threw his hand back up.

"Whoa, glasses dude, let's let some of our smaller friends ask some questions," Crush said. Dwight lowered his hand and stole a glance at Angela.

She didn't look back and her face was unreadable.

* * *

Andy: (_outside The Seas, still grinning like a champion_) Nailed it. Never _eff_ with a Cornell grad.

* * *

Dwight (_in front of the Elecric Umbrella Café, where inside some of his coworkers are standing in line; his expression is hard_) A few years ago, Mose asked if he could have an aquarium. Knowing that he was not responsible enough to maintain such a large responsibility, I hooked up a DVD player to an old TV we had been storing in the barn and put _Finding Nemo_ on repeat day and night. Mose loves it. I don't think he knows the difference between the setup I rigged and a _real _aquarium. (_He pauses and shakes his head_.) It may break his heart, but I'm taking a katana to that DVD when I get home.

* * *

Meredith stood next to Kevin in line at the café. "What's the matter?" she asked after noticing his glum expression.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"C'mon, Kev. You can tell me."

"I'm still kinda bummed that Judy's married," he sighed. There was a pause. "Plus Michael called me fat. Again."

"I'm sorry," Meredith said. Her face lit up. "I have a great idea."

"What?" Kevin asked.

"Well, after lunch we're heading to all those countries, right?"

"Right…"

She gave him a friendly swat. "You and me – international beer tour!"

Kevin looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"We'll sample a different beer in every country. It'll be a real…cultural experience, and by the end you'll forget all about Judy!" Meredith smiled encouragingly. Kevin thought for a moment, then smiled too.

"Okay. That sounds fun," he finally agreed. Meredith held up a hand for a high five and Kevin obliged.

* * *

Kevin: (_standing a few feet away from the table, smiling_) That was nice of her. (_He begins pumping his fist lightly, chanting_.) Be-_er_, be-_er_, be-_er_…

* * *

Meredith: (_holding a tray; smiling_) I was gonna do that anyway, but hey, the more the merrier.

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **Bonus bit alert - check out the extras section of the profile to see Kelly's beloved pumpkins. Lord how I want one...last year we were there a week before Halloween and it took all I had not to snatch one. Well, it was kind of easy, as they were far away. But still. Also, some of these attractions are harder to explain; I hope I was sufficient. If not, you know where to go!

You good-naturedly ribbed; I listened - this chapter is significantly longer (by way more than 500 words, pals). Epcot is easier to write in smaller chunks, but I think you were right and the last chapter was a tad scant. So here you all go. Can you return the favor? Sure! (You better! Just kidding...) Just obey the not-so-suble request in the tune... :)

_Review this for me,  
Review this for me!  
Darlings I'm better  
After your letters -  
Take it from me!  
Send just a little note my way;  
I'm tellin' you now it makes my day!  
Raise up my spirit -  
C'mon, let me hear it!  
Review this for me!_

(PS - Chapter 10's song, for those of you I may not have told already, was based on "So This Is Love," from Cinderella. It was a toughie!)


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: There was once was a chick who owned nothing she wrote about. And that chick...was _me._**

What good timing! The Dunder Mifflinites have just sat down to lunch at Epcot and saved you a seat. Care to join them? Oh good!

* * *

At the tables near a neon mural of a rainstorm at the Electric Umbrella cafe, the group tucked into their meals. "So…countries next?" Michael asked around a mouthful of hamburger patty (the buns - or "vicious carbs," as Michael had called them – sat neglected in his basket). Judy nodded.

"Yes – the World Showcase, as we call it," she said after a sip of water.

"Okay, good. Great. I want all of you to pay attention – this will be a real learning experience," Michael instructed his employees. "I know you're not all as open-minded as me, but really, it wouldn't hurt you to embrace the cultures of others."

"_You're_ the one that always says awful things," Phyllis reminded him. His face twisted and he glared at her.

"That is _not _true," he argued loudly, then began to cough. In a flashback to the day before, Judy slapped him on the back a few times. "That is not true," he said again, once his airway was clear. "_I'm_ the one that is always welcoming to new people, and soaking up new experiences like a straw." He gestured toward Kelly. "Whose idea was it to go to Indian Halloween?"

"You mean Diwali?" Pam asked.

"Whatev— yes, Diwali."

"You prepared us for Diwali with the Kama Sutra," Pam said.

"Really?" Jim asked her quietly, grinning. She gave him a nod and a grin back.

"Toby took our copies away," Kevin told Jim sadly.

"Diwali was my idea," Kelly replied simply, getting back to Michael's question.

Michael shook his head. "Lie," he said.

"It _was_ my idea…and you aren't sensitive at _all_, Michael. Remember when you started yelling all that, like, gibberish at me on Diversity Day?" Kelly reminded him, frowning. "Like a bad impression of some 7-Eleven guy."

"Yes, and she understandably slapped you," Jim tacked on for good measure.

"I was…making a point about stereotypes," Michael defended himself.

"You called Martin a slave," Kevin said.

"I did not! I just said-"

"Don't forget what happened with the tech support guy – you thought he was a terrorist," Oscar recalled, looking at his boss. Michael rolled his eyes.

"That was an honest mistake!"

"You said I probably stole from the warehouse," Darryl said as he chewed a fry.

"And you've said all kinds of terrible things to Stanley," Phyllis threw in.

"What?! I have _not_," Michael spat.

Stanley gave him a slow once-over.

"_And _you called Toby a rapist," Angela put forward.

Michael pointed at her. "_That _has nothing to do with this. Toby is white. I called him a rapist, and a jerk, and useless because he was an _ass_. It had nothing to do with the color of skin. I would've called him those things if he was black." He stopped short. "You know what? I probably _wouldn't_ have, because had he been black he would have been so much cooler." Michael shook his head again and sighed. "This is why today is such a great opportunity. All you guys do is focus on the bad stuff. Negative energy. Get over it and be positive. _God_." He took a furious bite of his patty.

The camera swung to Judy, whose mouth hung open and her hand, holding her water bottle, was frozen midway to her mouth.

* * *

Judy: (_tucked away in a quiet smoking area; looking petrified_) Forget what I said earlier. I've gotta say that I've been dreading this portion of their trip anyway, and after hearing all _that_? (_She shakes her head and takes a quick drag off her cigarette._) I know we have a code word, but this park, especially the World Showcase, is taken _very_ seriously by the company. This park was Walt's _dream_ - his _life-long_ _dream_ - and I can't be yelling 'pooh' every thirty seconds here. It's pretty clear Michael's based what little cultural awareness he has on horribly inaccurate cartoons and movies, and even _that _he confuses. (_Judy now takes a long drag, and her eyes widen as she makes a realization_.) He's going to act like Godzilla in China…or Apu in Morocco…or the Swedish Chef in Norway…or _all _of them. I _know_ it. (_A pause as she sighs_.) At least he thinks _Monty Python_ is a person. I think that saves me from the lumberjack song in Canada. (_She unenthusiastically waves a fist in the air._) Yay for little victories.

* * *

Michael looked up at the giant pyramid which towered before him. "Egypt?" he said, skeptical.

"Did the mariachi band tip you off?" Jim asked in a deadpan, gesturing to the twelve musicians playing to a small crowd near the railing for the World Showcase Lagoon.

"Oh…hey! Meh-hee-co!" Michael said, suddenly excited, and jogged over to join the musicians. The bystanders were clapping along, and Michael began shimmying to the beat in the center of the circle they had formed.

"_El maestro de la baila!_" the guitarist announced, smiling.

"Si! Yes!" Michael said, his dance increasing in energy and franticness. "Dance! So raw, so primal! Every culture does it, uses it!" he told the camera, his voice strained. Perspiration began beading along his forehead. "Jim! Get Oscar!"

Jim looked around, as did the camera. Oscar was nowhere to be found.

"Join the dance, my Mexican friend!" Michael tried again.

Oscar still didn't appear.

* * *

Oscar: (_hidden on the wooded path into the replica of the Aztec Temple of Quetzalcoatl; irritated and speaking quietly, the music of the mariachis still audible in the background_) Of _course _I'm hiding. Are you kidding me? Kelly's safe; there's no India pavilion. Stanley's safe; there aren't any pavilions for African nations. Toby may have had some concern if here was here, because I think 'Flenderson' is a Norwegian name, but Michael would never realize that anyway – Toby'd be safe unless Disney dedicated an attraction to divorce. _I'm_ the only one who has to worry about this, whose heritage is on display. I'm staying as far out of Michael's sight as I can 'til we're at _least _three countries away. I mean, come on – would _you _want to be associated with _that_? (_He points back down the walk; Michael can be seen doing his own sweaty impersonation of a Mexican hat dance around a sombrero it seems he stole from the trumpeter and put on the ground. He can clearly be heard yelling, "Arriba! Andale!" The camera swings back to Oscar and he sighs._) I'm going inside.

* * *

"Okay, ready?" Judy asked the couple as she focused the camera. Jim and Pam nodded as they stood with their arms wrapped around each other under a wooden sign reading **PLAZA DE LOS AMIGOS**, and just before the flash illuminated the scene Jim turned his head slightly and planted a kiss on the top of Pam's. Her smile widened and Judy snapped the picture.

"It turned out great," she said, glancing at the digital display before she handed it back. She headed down the walkway as Jim and Pam turned to assess the view. Inside the temple was a typical Mexican marketplace, with carts selling brightly colored piñatas, painted pottery and other wares. The "sky" above them was a deep purple and stars were twinkling along with punched-tin lanterns.

"This is amazing," Pam said, still smiling. Jim nodded his agreement. Pam looked back up at the sign above them. "'Amigos,' huh?"

"Well that's where it all started, right?" Jim asked as they walked toward the marketplace.

"True."

"And we'll always befriends," he continued.

"If you're lucky."

"And we get the benefits too."

Pam smirked at him. "Thanks."

He smiled back. "So, win-win-win," he concluded.

"A _few _more benefits wouldn't be a bad thing," Pam mused, holding up her left hand and wiggling her fingers.

"Arthritis medication?" he guessed as he wandered over to a cart selling small ceramic animals, giving the camera the tiniest of jims.

"Not exactly."

"Patience is a virtue, Señorita Beesly," Jim said teasingly, his back to her.

Pam, following behind him, pursed her lips ever so slightly.

* * *

Outside the temple, Meredith and Kevin held their twin 20 ounzes of Dos Equis aloft. "To culture," Meredith said, smiling. Kevin nodded and opened his mouth, then looked confused. He peeked at the cast member behind the counter.

"_Salud_," he prompted him, smiling.

"Oh right. Sah-lood," Kevin parroted, and went to tap his plastic glass against Meredith's, encountering a problem when hers was already at her lips. With a shrug Kevin followed suit.

* * *

The next country to be featured in the World Showcase was Norway, and a beautiful replica of a stave church greeted the group as they arrived. Michael looked around. "Lovely," he commented, then waved his arms haphazardly. "Or should I say 'bork bork bork'?"

Judy looked at the camera knowingly, raising her eyebrows.

* * *

"What is this ride?" Dwight asked as he stood in line with Jim.

"It's called the Maelstrom."

"Ah. The Scandinavian word for whirlpool; it has a considerable downdraft," Dwight replied.

Jim opened his mouth automatically to mock him, but shut it when he realized that Dwight hadn't actually said anything mock-worthy. That fact clearly made him uncomfortable, because "Yeah," was all he said back.

"Where is Pam?"

"I remembered this having a part that goes backward, so she decided not to ride."

"Motion sickness is a form of weakness," Dwight ruled.

"Punishable by death in some countries," Jim quickly replied, seemingly relieved at the return to normalcy.

Dwight pondered that. "Possibly in Japan. I'll ask someone."

"Let me know what they say."

"Will do. What else is on this ride?"

"All I remember are trolls, honestly."

Dwight nodded. "Not surprising. They're a common problem in Norwegian folklore." There was a pause. "I wonder if Troy knows about this ride?"

Jim frowned. "Who's Troy?"

"From Corporate?" Dwight held out a hand near his hip, clearly indicating Troy's short stature.

"I thought Troy was a hobbit."

Dwight shrugged. "Without a thorough examination I can't be sure."

Jim nodded sadly. "I hate that."

* * *

Kevin and Meredith were at the counter of the Kringla Bakeri og Kafe. "What can I get for you?" a smiling blonde cast member wearing a nametag indicating she was Johanna from Oslo, Norway, asked the pair.

"Do you serve beer? I mean, cultural beer?" Kevin asked.

Johanna nodded. "Yes! We have Carlsburg," she replied in a thick accent.

"We'll take two," he said, smiling.

"Three," Meredith corrected. Johanna nodded and went to retrieve their beers.

"Oh!" Kevin said. Johanna turned back. "And a sweet pretzel," he added.

"That will be a few minutes. We have some more in the oven; we just sold the last one."

There was a soft chuckle and the camera turned to reveal Stanley at a small table, smiling around a mouthful of pretzel.

* * *

Michael: (_standing in front of a building called the Chinese Hall of Prayer_; _looking solemn_) We are now in China. Clearly a beautiful country, but plagued with problems. I've heard about the human rights debate on the news, and I know why it's such a hot topic, as the ladies on _The View _might say. Human rights are _extremely _important, and while yeah, technology is great, we can't forget the rights of humans just because robots make so many of your toys. I mean, that's just wrong, you know? (_Michael shrugs modestly, but his face betrays how pleased he is to have solved such a complex issue_._ During his pause a smile breaks out._) I know it's June, but maybe I can get one of these people to sing 'Jingle Bells.' Have you seen _A Christmas Story_? Hilarious. "Fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra…" (_He chuckles_.) I make Ping do it every time he drops off my food.

* * *

The group was gathered around an outdoor platform, watching a skilled group of Chinese acrobats perform amazing feats. After a particularly impressive stunt, the crowd applauded, but Andy looked at Angela in confusion as she stood with her arms crossed.

"You didn't think that was amazing?" he asked, sounding incredulous. She shrugged.

"It all seems rather showy. And the costumes are so tight."

"Lighten up, Pumpkin," Creed admonished her. Angela shot him a hateful look.

"Excuse me?"

"They're good. You're jealous. And a lady that can do _that_," he began as he pointed to a young female performer flexing her leg behind her head, "is something _any_ man would applaud."

Angela looked to Andy as if expecting him to defend her, but he just shrugged. "Big Mung Bean has a point," he said simply.

* * *

Creed: (_standing near the water; nodding knowingly_) Spent a lot of time all over the world in my years. Those girls from the Orient? (_He winks._) Always the best.

* * *

Judy took the group past the area of the World Showcase devoted to Germany, explaining that they would have time to explore it later when they returned for dinner at the German restaurant, Biergarten. She paused when she noticed Meredith and Kevin wandering toward the Bavarian buildings.

"Where are you guys going?" she asked.

"To get a beer," Meredith answered without stopping. Kevin did stop and nodded.

"But you already _have _beer," Judy pointed out. Kevin glanced down at the half-empty bottle of Tsing Tao in his hand.

"We're…learning," he answered, moseying after Meredith.

"Okay," Judy said to herself, then turned back to the group. "Guess we'll just wait here for a minute." She smiled at Dwight. "So? How does Germany look?"

Dwight shrugged, looking less than thrilled. "Could be better."

* * *

Dwight: (_standing near a statue of St. George and the dragon; his face registers his distaste_) It's as I expected – they focused only on the fairy-tale like design of _southern_ Germany – Bavaria if you will. What would have been better? (_His expression intensifies._) A pavilion dedicated to the harsh northern German landscapes, such as that found in the states of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern or Schleswig-Holstein, where my grandpa Manheim hails from. (_He shakes his head sadly as a melancholy look replaces the rather scary one._) It's just a shame he can't come out of hiding and travel back there again.

* * *

A mock-up of St. Mark's Square welcomed the group to the Italy pavilion. Judy informed them they would meet back up near the free-standing column adorned by St. Theodore in twenty minutes, after they had a chance to explore the shops. Pam looked around, then smiled up at Jim. "Where did you want to go first?" she asked. "Maybe find a quiet corner and sit down? There's a really pretty fountain over there," she said, pointing.

"Actually, why don't you go check out the shops and I'll meet up with you; I'm gonna go check on Kevin – I'm a little worried about the beer thing," he told her, squeezing her hand and raising his eyebrows. She blinked and, an instant too late for it to look completely natural, put on a smile.

"Oh. Sure," she replied. He gave her a quick kiss before he walked off. Pam reached for her necklace and glanced at the camera.

* * *

Jim found Kevin on a bench. "Hey man," he greeted him.

"Oh, hey Jim."

"Mind if I join you?" Jim asked. Kevin shook his head and so Jim did just that. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just bummed Italy doesn't have a counter you can buy beer at. Meredith and me are on an international beer tour and we can't get one to represent Italy. It sucks."

Jim glanced at the camera, then looked to Kevin again. "Do you think it's such a great idea to drink so much beer on such a hot day?" he asked Kevin, who shrugged.

"I'm trying to forget a woman," he said resolutely. "That takes a _lot_ of beer."

Jim was quiet a moment, then nodded. "It can. Just…take it easy, okay?"

"I will."

"Okay." Jim clapped Kevin on the shoulder and stood. "Where _is _Meredith?"

Kevin pointed off to the right. "She went back to China. To make up for no beer in Italy."

Jim nodded again. "Of course."

* * *

Pam: (_seated at the "really pretty fountain;" her hands are folded in front of her and she is clearly trying to look unfazed_) Oh, I _am _patient. Yeah. I totally am, and I'm not trying to force Jim into anything. Really. I just thought it was really pretty here, and…like maybe, y'know, if he _was _trying to find a spot_…_well, there was that whole thing about Italian food that one time when he kissed me at work…about being passionate about it…it was a joke, y'know, just a silly thing…do _you guys _remember that? (_It's clear she gets an affirmative answer because her face falls just a little_.) Yeah, that was a good day. (_She forces a smile._) But that's, like, your job, remembering that. And of course I'm a girl, so _I _remember that…I mean, maybe he doesn't even _want _to…(_Pam waves her hand and gives a laugh._) Wow, I am just _rambling_, huh? (_She shrugs_.) Jim can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Or _not _do, whatever he…_doesn't_ want…whatever. You know. I'm cool. And patient. (_An uncomfortable pause and another forced grin_.) I think I'm gonna go find Phyllis. (_Her eyes are lowered as she quickly leaves the shot_.)

* * *

Jim: (_near a sign for Tutto Italia restaurant; nodding_) "I'm in love with Italian food…?" (_He smiles in a way that makes it clear that remembering that statement is all the producer had mentioned_.) Yeah, I remember that. Absolutely. It crossed my mind, but then I considered a certain…someone was also Italian. (_He shrugs_.) It seemed like dangerous territory. I have a plan. Don't worry. (_His eyes narrow a little but his smile remains_.) Why'd you ask about that?

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **No extras. Sorry. Just go look at the pumpkins again; you all are apparently just as obsessed with them now as I am. Let's unite, start a movement to get Disney to sell them...we'll march on Cinderella Castle! Yeah! Just not right now; I'm quite tired.

Boy howdy, do I love World Showcase, and I hope I represented it well. If not, you know where to go.

And now the musical portion of the show...

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(PS, last chapter's song was based on "Under The Sea," from _The Little Mermaid_, for those that were confused.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: The only thing remotely related to any of this that I've acquired since my initial disclaimer is a ticket stub from Wall-E.**

A tiny shout-out to my darling Fo Sho is hidden within this chapter. I hope it makes her laugh after a crappy week.

It's back to Epcot with all off you. Seriously, get outta here.

* * *

Andy: (_in front of a classic English Georgian style building, a sign above reading __**The American Adventure**__; singing in a falsetto) _A-_meeer_-i-ca, A-_meeer_-i-ca, God shed His grace on thee…

* * *

Pam: (_near the water; nodding_) We're in the most exotic pavilion of all.

Jim: (_smiling_) Yes. America. What a learning experience this'll be.

* * *

Andy: And _crooown_ thy good with _brooo_-ther-hood…

* * *

Oscar: (_standing against a tree; shrugs_) I figured it was safe to return by now. What'd I miss? (_He immediately holds up a hand_.) Never mind. I'm happier _not _knowing.

* * *

Andy: (_arms spread wide_) From sea to _shiii_-ning _seeea_! (_He sighs, grinning widely._) Awesome.

* * *

Michael: (_near a souvenir stand chock-full of red, white and blue paraphernalia_) Yes, we are here in the American pavilion. It's inspiring. Just as we can share in others' cultures, others get the rare chance to experience ours as well. And I'm not ashamed to say, it's the greatest nation on earth. (_He turns his head; asks somewhat bitterly_) Was that all right?

(_The camera turns and shows Judy a few feet away._)

Judy: (_taken off-guard_) Um, yeah. Absolutely.

(_The camera returns to Michael._)

Michael: We have such a long, complicated history compared to most nations, and I think—

(_A bearded man in a "These Colors Don't Run!" hat jumps behind Michael, pumping his fist.)_

Man: U-S-A! U-S-A!

Michael: (_looks confused momentarily, then grins_.) Yes! All right! (_He pumps his fist too._) U-S-A! U-S-A!

(_The camera swings back to Judy, who blinks slowly as she watches them._)

* * *

"Okay," Judy began, looking over her charges, "there's a showing of 'The American Adventure' starting in ten minutes, so let's head in. We'll also be able to watch the Voices of Liberty singers, who are an amazing acapella group that perform before the show."

"_Yes_," Andy exclaimed. Judy shook her head firmly.

"No, Andy. You may _not _join them."

"C'mon, Jude, I prepared for just such an opportunity – '_when you wish up_-'"

"_Andy._"

There was that fierce whisper again, and Andy stopped, his finger suspended in midair where it had been pointing out invisible notes. He peered at Angela for backup, but her reprimanding gaze let him know how she felt about his performance. The camera caught a smirk from Dwight.

Effortlessly Judy transformed back into their friendly Disney guide. "Ready?" she asked everyone. She got a positive response and so spun on her heel to lead them in. She glanced at Kevin. "You can't bring food or drink into the theater," she told him.

Kevin looked down at the almost full Sam Adams he held and shrugged. "Okay." He chugged the rest down. Judy glanced at the camera quickly before heading inside. Further back in the group Pam slapped Jim's arm lightly and pointed to a quiet corner off to the left where a replica of the Liberty Bell resided, surrounded by patriotically colored flowers.

"It's like a little piece of home right here," she said.

"How about that," Jim replied lightly. Pam turned to answer a question Phyllis had asked, and so missed the wide-eyed jim from her boyfriend for the camera's benefit.

* * *

The show played out before them, starring a huge cast of audio-animatronic figures in scenes set at various times in American history. It concluded with a moving montage of some of America's most beloved sons and daughters, from Walt Disney to Babe Ruth, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to the astronauts who lost their lives in the _Challenger _disaster. Scoring the tribute was a beautiful tune entitled "Golden Dream." The camera swung from the screen to zoom in on Michael, who was – not surprisingly - weeping openly and loudly.

What was more surprising was that when the view shifted to a few seats further down the row, Jim was attempting to discretely wipe a hand across his face and clear away a few tears of his own.

Pam, too, sniffled, and quickly looked to see if Jim had heard her. Not quickly enough Jim also turned his head, but away from her, and Pam's previous sad expression was done away with so that a surprised, delighted smile had room to grow in its place.

* * *

Michael walked out of the theater, still blubbering. "It was so…so…_bluh_," he finished, resorting to his usual noise he reserved for emotional times such as these. Dwight put an arm around him, looking concerned.

"Are you all right, Michael?" he asked tenderly.

Michael pressed a hand to his eyes and nodded, inhaling deeply through his nose. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just…just gimme a minute." Dwight nodded and looked back to see Jim and Pam exiting behind them. Jim's eyes found the camera and he immediately dipped his cap lower.

"Jim, as number two you should help comfort Michael," Dwight told him.

Pam nodded quickly. "Yes, Jim, comfort Michael – I mean, you were cr—"

Jim shook his head and took Pam's hand. "You can handle it, Dwight," he said quickly, heading off down the sidewalk. Pam laughed.

"But Jim, tell Michael how—"

"We'll see you guys in Japan," Jim told Judy as they passed her, interrupting Pam.

"Oh, uh, okay," Judy said.

"He's pretty distraught," Pam, still grinning, said over her shoulder as Jim pulled her off. Jim's head ducked lower.

The camera moved back to Michael, who still had Dwight's arm across his shoulders as he did some sort of deep breathing.

It then swung back to the miniature version of Philadelphia's most famous landmark, looking a little lonely.

* * *

Michael: (_leaning against a lamppost; his eyes are puffy and bloodshot but burning with alarming intensity_) You know, that show really touched me. It made me _think_, and I think I've taken advantage of how _great _America really is. I think everyone has – the whole world. Well, I'm _sick_ of us getting shoved around like some nerdy kid on the playground, the one whose mom made him wear full three-piece suits in fifth grade, while all the other guys got to wear bleached jeans, and t-shirts with baseball teams or Farrah Fawcett on them. That's gotta stop. I'm gonna stand up for America, starting now.

* * *

Meredith and Kevin each took their cups of Kirin from a smiling cashier at the small kiosk in the Japan pavilion. Meredith bowed and Kevin did the same after a moment, a long, low belch escaping in the process. Meredith started drinking immediately but Kevin simply stood there.

"What's the matter?" she asked after a long sip.

"Maybe I better take this one a li'l slower," Kevin said, and a not-terribly-close examination of his face would reveal that the tour had indeed started to affect him. The slur didn't help keep that a secret, either.

"But we're only halfway through."

"I know, I just…" He expelled a long sigh and then narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should have some water. Jim didn't think a lotta beer on a hot day was a great idea."

Meredith gave him a look. "What does Jim know? Come on."

"'kay," Kevin said somewhat doubtfully and took a slug of Kirin.

* * *

Phyllis was looking a display of kimonos at the Mitsukoshi department store that took up a majority of the Japanese pavilion. She was pulling a red one adorned with pink peonies off a hanger when Angela walked up.

"What do you think?" Phyllis asked her, holding the kimono up under her chin. Angela's eyebrow arched.

"It's very…_red_. Kind of a trampy color," she ruled. Phyllis's lips made a hard line for a moment, but soon her expression softened.

"You're probably right. Here," she said, handing the garment to Angela. Phyllis purposefully raised her head and redirected her gaze over the petite blonde's shoulder. Angela turned, too, and the camera revealed Dwight standing not ten feet away, ogling a rack full of samurai swords. The camera quickly moved back to Angela, whose face was beginning to match the kimono in color. Without a word she threw it back at Phyllis and stormed off. Phyllis' smile to the camera was triumphant.

A moment later Andy wandered up. "Hey Phyl. Great robe."

Phyllis's smile only grew. "Thanks, Andy."

* * *

Phyllis: (_outside, in front of a bright red torii gate; her eyebrows raised_) I haven't told a soul about what I saw after Toby's party. Not even Bob Vance. (_She smiles a little_.) _I _know. That's what matters.

* * *

"This is the only pavilion sponsored by the government of that country and not a corporation," Judy explained as the group followed the wide sidewalk into the Morocco pavilion, passing the prayer tower that served as a welcome. "Morocco and the United States have a long relationship – in fact, when the United States declared their independence from Great Britain, Morocco was the first—"

An ear-splitting shriek silenced the guide. Kelly, the source of the sound, was bouncing and pointing frantically.

"Omigod, _Aladdin_ and _Jasmine_! I _have _to go get a picture!" she proclaimed. "C'mon, Pam, come with me!" Before Pam could agree to come (or not), Kelly was yanking her off. "Bring the camera, baby!" Kelly called to Darryl, who sighed and followed.

"Is the Genie there, too?" Michael asked, hurrying after the three of them.

"Um…well, I guess my talk is over. Characters from _Aladdin_, as you may have heard, are over there," Judy said, holding out an open hand in the direction a third of her group had gone in, "and I guess we'll meet back here in twenty minutes."

Everyone meandered away. Judy and Jim headed toward the characters slowly. "No smoke break?" Jim teased. Judy shook her head.

"The stress level's low for now. Getting excited about characters is pretty commonplace. If Michael starts talking to Aladdin about jihads or something, though, well…that's another story."

Jim laughed as the pair passed a small shop called Medina Arts. As they did a tiny redheaded girl came charging out, ringing a handcrafted copper bell. "Mama, look!" she cried. Judy gave her a smile.

Jim's face went blank. His mouth opened, but what he said was unclear as it was bleeped out.

* * *

Jim: (_leaning against the wall; his hat is off and his hand is repeatedly running through his sweat-dampened hair, and he is speaking as if he can't believe the words he himself is saying_) I…forgot. I thought it'd be a sorta cute idea for today, kinda funny - asking her at a place that represented home, or almost home, in a park full of all sorts of foreign countries. But…we left the America pavilion so fast and I…forgot to do it. (_His hand freezes in his hair and he stares as if dazed. A moment later his hand drops to his side and his hair is left resembling a bird's nest._ _He shakes his head and slowly walks out of the shot_.)

* * *

Kelly danced in place impatiently as the little boy in front of her finished getting Jasmine's autograph. "That kid needs to hurry up," Kelly said.

"He's almost done," Pam replied.

Kelly sighed happily. "I love Jasmine. She's so hot, and dark-haired and dark-skinned like me. People used to call me Jasmine in high school, because I had this, like, super-long hair and wore really short shirts and stuff. I mean, Jasmine's not Indian - she's like Arabian, or whatever - but close enough. It was still awesome. Baby, do you think I look like Jasmine?" Kelly quizzed Darryl, leaning into him. He nodded.

"I can see a resemblance."

Kelly smiled. "Am I hotter than Jasmine?"

Darryl laughed. "She's a cartoon character."

Kelly's smile fell. "What does _that _mean?"

"It means she ain't real."

"So you're saying she's _hotter _than me? Are you checking her out?"

There was a long pause, during which Darryl stared at Kelly in utter disbelief and Pam sent a look to the camera that seemed to beg that it help her disappear. "Kelly, get it together," he finally said.

Kelly moved away from Darryl and put a hand on her hip. "'Get it together'? Are you serious, Darryl Philbin? Like I don't have the right to be upset that _you_ think _another_ girl is hotter than your _own_ girlfriend? I _totally _think I have _every_ right to be pissed."

Just then Jasmine, having sent the little boy bounding off, graced Kelly with a megawatt smile. "Hello!" she called out happily.

"Hey," Kelly said haughtily, giving the princess a once-over as she and Pam joined her for a picture.

"You don't want to be in the picture, too?" Jasmine asked Darryl as he turned on the camera.

"I'm cool; I'll just snap it," he assured her. Kelly, however, was now attempting to slay Jasmine with just a look.

"Look, that's _my_ man. Back off. You have that guy over there, so watch yourself," Kelly growled in warning, jabbing a finger in the direction of Aladdin standing a few feet to the right. Pam shook her head slowly, looking even more desperate to melt into the floor.

"Um," was all Jasmine could say. Darryl sighed and brought the camera to eye level.

"Smile, ladies."

* * *

Kevin stood under a huge arch hidden along the winding path through the Moroccan buildings, leaning against the wall and sweating heavily. Oscar, carrying a shopping bag, stopped and studied his fellow accountant in concern.

"Kevin?"

Kevin lifted his head just enough to see who had addressed him. "H'oscar," he managed.

Oscar's brows met. "Are you okay, buddy?"

Kevin held up his almost empty cup of Casablanca beer. "Kindagetmego," he mumbled, then dropped his head again.

Oscar watched him another long moment, then walked away.

* * *

"Will this be all for you, sir?" an older clerk at The Brass Bazaar asked as he rang up Michael's small lamp that resembled one in which a genie might live.

"That's it…Adib," Michael responded, reading the clerk's name tag.

"It is a lovely lamp," Adib admired as he carefully wrapped it. Michael nodded.

"I thought so too. I'll give it a good rub later." A short pause. "That's what she said."

Surprisingly, Adib chuckled along with Michael. Once Michael had paid for his purchase he gave the man one last smile.

"Have a nice day."

"You too, sir. _Besslama._"

Michael peeked at the camera then bowed slightly. "And to you also. As well." He strolled out of the store.

The view shifted to a far table, where Judy stood near an array of pottery. She was staring after Michael, and her face registered surprise – and for the first time, it appeared pleasant in nature.

* * *

Judy: (_near the prayer tower_) That was…something. I was afraid that after "The American Adventure" Michael would be a little uber-patriotic, and maybe Morocco might have been…_challenging_ to that. But he did pretty well. (_A long pause as her brow crinkles._) Is putting "uber" in front of "patriotic" unpatriotic?

* * *

Judy smiled and held her arms wide; behind her was a vision of France from La Belle Epoque ("the beautiful time"). "Asking in advance for your pardon of my awful French, bienvenue en France!" she welcomed them. "There's a movie here that we can catch a showing of in about five minutes, 'Impressions de France,' so let's head in to the theater and check it out."

"Ugh, really?" Michael said. Judy looked at him in confusion.

"You don't want to see a movie about France?"

Michael shook his head adamantly. "No."

"But France is one of the most beautiful countries in the world," Pam said. Michael gave her a disparaging look.

"Way to stand up for the ol' U.S. of A., Spamalot." He stepped forward with great strides.

Judy bowed her head. "Oh God," a keen listener would have heard her mutter.

Michael held his own head high. "France is a pimple on the face of the world – gross, smelly and rude," he began loudly.

"Since when do pimples smell?" Pam asked Jim. He shrugged.

"Right after they got rude, apparently."

"They hate Americans, guys…_hate _us. They hate our ways, and our…means. They hate our freedoms, and our zest for life."

"Our _joie de vivre_?" Jim guessed innocently. Pam giggled as Michael nodded.

"Exactly. They hate us for our optimism; the way we see the world as a good, happy place."

"Oh, you mean our _vie en rose_," Jim clarified, wearing a classic jim. Pam clapped a hand over her mouth.

"What...?" Michael waved a hand. "Sure, yes." He turned and spotted an aggravated cast member looking at him. "Oh, you can deny it, buddy, but I'm on to you – you _won't_ take my spirit, and you _won't_ take my fries!" he cried.

"Hear, hear!" Andy seconded.

The cast member grimaced. "_Monsieur_, I believe you are mistaken—"

Michael put a hand to his chest, looking amused. "_I'm _mistaken? No, no, I think I've got it all perfectly correct. Let me tell you a little something, Jean-Luc Picard—"

"Yeah!" Dwight cried.

But before Michael could really lay into "Jean-Luc," Judy grabbed his arm. "Know what? I misjudged the time. We actually need to get back to Germany for dinner," she announced, literally pulling Michael off his feet and quickly walking in the opposite direction.

"But I—"

"Pooh. Pooh. A _thousand times _Pooh."

* * *

Judy: (_in a quiet smoking area in Germany; she takes a drag off her cigarette and shakes her head_) I _so _should have seen that coming.

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **Just a quick bonus note - Jim's list of proposal ideas has been updated. Also, my profile now has links to my new Photobucket account where you can find a plethora of fun _Office _icons I've made (steal and enjoy, amigos!), and The Finer Fics Club, a new community ktface3, MrsBigTuna and I started. Chiggity check it out.

I had no intentions of updating this quickly, but the feedback for the last chapter was really low...like, _significantly_ less that I usually get. And I hope that doesn't sound arrogant; what I mean is it left me feeling uneasy. If you didn't like it, let me know. If I offended you I apologize - I'm trying to handle the "racial stuff" the same way the show does. Personally, I think it was my favorite chapter, and those that did review were _amazingly_ kind (thanks again, y'all). But if there are issues I need to address, please please share. ktface3 assured me that I was still a pimp (I checked my stats and I was - sorry, inside joke), but it still got me worried.

So here's the skinny: I would never, _ever _do that hold the next chapter for ransom bit. But I _have _decided to hold the review parody song for ransom. I know I have a _lot _of silent readers here (I'm not knocking you guys, I promise; I do the same thing). _Please _take the time this chapter to come out of the woodwork and give me some feedback. Good or bad, really. If we get back to normal (I'm not saying a number), the review song returns. C'mon, you know you all love it! Here's hoping I hear from you soon...


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Rather than sue me, just hire me. Win-win. Win. (The last win is just because that would rule.)**

Let's just get this on the table: you all are the _best_. You came through like gangbusters last chapter; thank you so very much! I happily return your song _and _you get a nice big update! (Warning up front, though - this is the last for a week. Sorry; other things beckon.) And a thank you to ktface3. You're a pimp.

And how is it you always show up at mealtime? Dinner at the German restaurant, anyone?

* * *

The Scranton branch stood in the waiting area of the Biergarten restaurant as they waited for their tables. Dwight looked around as he inhaled deeply.

"Smells like a fairly respectable buffet," he mused on exhale.

"You can tell from here?" Pam asked.

"The Schrute sense of smell is highly advanced," Dwight said distractedly. "I definitely pick up hints of both _bayrischer kraut_ and _rote beete salats_ – and the beets are amazingly fresh…_frikadellen_…_gegrillter bratwurst_, _regensburger_ and _kassler ripchen_ with sauerkraut…and could that be _hausgemachte spaetzle_?" he wondered, raising his eyebrows.

"Is there any other kind?" Pam questioned.

"_Hausgemachte_ means homemade. There's canned – clearly inferior," Dwight replied, rolling his eyes.

"Clearly," Jim repeated. Dwight eyed him.

"Do you know _anything_ about _anything_ German?"

"_Ich bin ein_ Springfield Swap Meet patron," Jim said seriously, eliciting another dirty look from Dwight. Pam smiled up at him, and he gave her a closed-mouth smile in return. Her brows furrowed a little. A moment later a smiling blonde approached the group.

"You all are the Scranton party, correct?" she asked.

"_Dammit _Pam! You forgot _again_?" Michael exclaimed.

"Yes, that's us," Oscar answered as Pam sent an apologetic shrug Michael's way.

"Your tables are ready," she informed them after sneaking a curious look at the regional manager. They started to follow as Andy looked around.

"Where'd Judy go?" He cupped a hand around his mouth. "_Nah nah nah nah-nah-nah nah, nah-nah-nah nah, hey Jude_!" he sang out loudly. Angela rolled her eyes and headed after the hostess.

* * *

Somehow a cameraman had made it past the ominous "Cast Members Only" sign to the backstage area of the restaurant and stealthily caught Judy approaching a man dressed in lederhosen and toting an accordion around his neck. After a tap on the shoulder he turned and smiled at her.

"I was wondering if I could make a request," she said with a grin.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"I was wondering if you guys could do the Pennsylvania Polka when you go on in a few minutes."

The man frowned slightly. "I think people really consider that more of a Polish number."

Judy shrugged. "I don't think people will care. Polka's polka, right?" His face turned serious and, perhaps subconsciously, Judy took a step back. "The group I'm with is from Pennsylvania and they'd love it," she added, trying another approach.

The man looked as if he were mentally debating a moral crisis, then finally nodded. "Okay. We'll do it."

Judy grinned, looking a little relieved. "Thanks so much," she said appreciatively and went for the door. Spotting the camera, she first shook her finger at them in mock-reprimand, then put it to her lips and raised her eyebrows as she passed.

* * *

The large dining room was modeled after a German courtyard during Oktoberfest. Everyone had retrieved their food from the buffet and had started eating. Most noticeable was Dwight, who sat with three full plates of various German meat and potatoes dishes around him. Angela looked at it them disgust.

"That's so much meat," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"That's what she said," Judy said absent-mindedly, then quickly looked up in alarm. Michael looked at her with new-found respect.

Dwight stared pointedly at Angela's plate. "What did _you _get to eat?" he asked.

Angela glanced down at her pickled beet salad and started to blush. "I'm…not sure what it is," she said, less haughtily than usual.

"I see," Dwight replied, unconvinced. Further down the table Jim looked at Kevin.

"How're you feeling?"

"Better in the air conditioning," Kevin answered through a mouthful of pretzel bread, then nodded toward his plate full of other Bavarian carbohydrates. "Plus I'm gonna soak up some up the alcohol with this."

Jim nodded. "Not a bad plan." He looked to Meredith. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said lightly, taking a swig of her Hacker-Pschorr. "Why?"

"Just…curious."

The lights dimmed some and spotlights illuminated the stage around which the branch sat. Several musicians, all dressed in traditional Bavarian costumes, walked onstage and picked up various instruments. The man Judy had spoken with earlier stepped up to the microphone. "_Guten abend, meine freunde, und willkommen_! Good evening, my friends, and welcome to the Biergarten, where it's _always_ Oktoberfest!" he greeted the audience enthusiastically, and received a warm round of applause. "My name is Peter, and behind me is Oktoberfest Musikanten. We're here to perform for you tonight – if that sounds good, let's hear a hearty _ja_, all right? On the count of three – _eins, zwei, drei_!"

"_Ja_!" the crowd replied, Dwight louder than anyone.

"_Sehr gut_!" Peter complimented them. "Now let's start off with a little music – and not just _any _music, but German beer-drinking music! It doesn't matter what you're drinking; just lift your glass and sway along. Sound good?"

"_Ja_!" the crowd said again, this time led by Meredith, holding her stein high.

"_Sehr gut_! Let's kick this off with—"

"_Wasch und Plater_!" Dwight called out. Peter looked down at him.

"Ah…"

"_Wenn Ich Mit Der_!" Dwight tried again.

"No…"

"_Komman Mein Herz_! _Tausand Fasser Bier_! _Silberhochzeit_!"

Peter shook his head. "It's actually _Hinum Herum_," he managed to reply.

"Not my favorite," Dwight said, shaking his head. Peter watched him another moment, then collected his wits and struck up the band.

After a few more numbers, Peter smiled down at the Scranton branch first, then out at the rest of the diners. "Well, we have a special number up next, but first we'll need a volunteer to share his best polka skills. Who's willing to give it a shot?"

Immediately Dwight's hand was in the air. Peter scanned the rest of the crowd, but seeing no other takers he attempted to widen his smile and pointed at Dwight. "All right, come on up, buddy."

Dwight cheered, then went wide-eyed for a moment. His head snapped in Andy's direction. "This is what's next," he told him.

Andy looked from Michael, who was munching on some apple strudel, to Dwight. "Really?"

"Really."

Andy rose slowly, trying to look cool and collected. "All right. I'm ready."

"Another volunteer?" Peter asked, smiling. "Well well…not how we _usually _do this, but we can roll with it. Are you two ready to polka?" He thrust the microphone in Andy's face. Andy smiled winningly.

"I was _born_ ready, Peter."

"_Guht_! And how about you?" he asked Dwight, shifting the microphone.

"I'm a Schrute," Dwight said, as if that explained everything. Peter waited a moment, but when he got nothing else he just shrugged.

"All right then, gentlemen, step up and take the stance with your partner," he instructed, gesturing to the space in front of him. Andy scowled.

"Wait, _what_? We're polkaing with each other?"

"Well, we usually only have one volunteer and we pair him or her with one of our dancers, but since you two are such close friends…why not?"

"We are _not _friends," Dwight asserted, then stepped in front of Andy, "but I will dance with him."

Andy gave him a look that said so much, and none of it was good. His eyes flitted again to Michael, who was wolf-whistling at the two of them. He swallowed hard and held his arms out. "Fine. I can do this," he said, nodding.

The two men awkwardly got into position, struggling with who would serve as the lead. Finally Dwight won out, placing a firm hand against Andy's waist and gripping his hand so tightly Andy's skin turned white around Dwight's fingers. "You better be ready to polka your _ass _off," he said to Andy, staring him in the eye. Andy just glared back.

"Bring it, loser."

"Now folks, our special request, and I want to see you clap along: the _Pennsylvania Polka_!"

"Oh _yeah_! That's amazing!" Michael cried, looking tickled and already starting to clap. "How'd he know we were here?"

Judy shrugged, smiling. "I don't know."

The accordion began and so did Dwight and Andy – a hop with the right foot, a step forward with the left. Dwight landed hard on Andy's foot, and after a "_Dammit_!" Andy reciprocated. Peter grinned as he began singing.

"_Strike up the music, the band has begun –  
__The Pennsylvania Polka!_"

"Ow!" Dwight howled as Andy kicked his shin.

"_Pick out your partner and join in the fun –  
__The Pennsylvania Polka!_"

"Cut it _out_!" Andy hissed as Dwight kneed him in the thigh.

"_It started it Scranton, it's now number one –  
__It's bound to entertain ya!_"

Everyone at the table cheered, even Jim and Pam. "We're _from _there!" Michael announced proudly to other tables nearby.

"_Everybody has a mania  
__To do the polka from Pennsylvania!_"

Around and around Dwight and Andy twirled, in a horribly violent bastardization of a polka. Dwight viciously pinched Andy's side. Andy punched him in the shoulder. Their feet were trampled countless times. Pam pulled her camera from her bag and started snapping pictures.

"Scrapbook?" Jim guessed.

Pam nodded as she took another photo. "Two page spread."

A minute later the song ended, and the two featured dancers – sweaty, bruised and gasping for air - returned to the table accompanied by applause.

"That was _awesome_!" Michael said happily. "We heard the name of our city – _our _city! – and you guys got to dance _onstage_!"

"Thanks Michael," Andy said, mopping his brow and smiling.

"I mean, you looked _so _gay!" Michael continued.

Dwight shot a look to Jim. "Who do you think won?" he asked quietly, leaning closer to his deskmate. Jim smiled.

"Everyone."

* * *

Jim: (_outside the Biergarten; looking impressed_) With virtually _no_ effort, that bandleader put to shame any prank I've ever pulled. That was truly phenomenal.

* * *

Andy: (_in the same spot Jim had stood_) Totally aced that one. (_He rubs at his shin._) I need some ice. (_He turns his head._) Hey Angie?

Angela: (_off-screen_) Get it yourself.

Andy: (_shrugging_) Guess she's busy. She loves those Hummels.

* * *

Dwight: (_in the same spot Jim and Andy had stood; cocky_) Who won? _Ist es nicht _obvious? (_A long pause, during which he loses some of his certainty._) It was me.

* * *

At the United Kingdom pavilion, a crowd was starting to gather in a large alcove near the Rose and Crown Pub. "Oh, the World Showcase Players are about to perform," Judy said. "Let's go check it out."

"Who are they?" Michael asked as they walked toward the action.

"They're an impr—impressive theater troupe," Judy explained, catching herself. "They do little plays on the street with audience participation."

Michael flashed a toothy smile at the camera. "Sounds like fun!"

The group joined the circle of tourists just as man dressed in Elizabethan garb started scanning the crowd. "'Who can I get to play my King Arthur?" he wondered in passable cockney. Michael immediately stepped forward and began "ah-_hem_"-ing loudly. The performer lingered over him momentarily before passing on to the man next to Michael. "You'll do _perfectly_!" he crowed.

"That's all right," Stanley said, shaking his head. Michael looked disappointed for a beat, then grinned widely.

"_Yes_! Stanley the Manley!"

"No one else will do, sir," the performer said, putting an arm around Stanley, who gave him a withering look.

"Come on, Stankley! Do it!" Michael cheered him on.

"I'd rather not," Stanley said flatly.

"Who here wants to see Stanley as our wise and noble King?" the man asked the crowd, who cheered in response (Michael loudest of all). He turned back to Stanley. "Your people have spoken."

With a long sigh Stanley followed the man to the wagon serving as a costume booth. A crown was quickly placed on his head and a scepter in his hand, neither of which did anything to eliminate the look of disinterest and irritation on Stanley's face. Soon the man began trolling the audience again.

"I now need my lovely Lady Guinevere," he announced, peering over the crowd. Finally he approached Phyllis. "How about you, milady?"

"Sure, why not?" she agreed, smiling.

Michael made a face. "Really? Not _my _first choice…"

Phyllis' smile faltered for a moment, but was restored by the crowd's applause. Michael finally shrugged and smiled into the camera.

"Guess I'll play proud papa," he said, holding up his camera and moving close as he dared to the "stars" of the show. "Stankley…_Stankley_! Over here! Smile!"

Stanley sighed again and obliged in facing him, but his face held the same expression it always did when looking at Michael.

* * *

Meredith and Kevin stood in line at Yorkshire County Fish Shop. "How're you feeling?" Meredith asked as they waited for the woman in front of them to collect her order. Kevin shrugged.

"Better…I guess."

"You're not gonna quit on me, are you?"

Kevin glanced over his shoulder at Judy, laughing at the street show. "Nope."

"Awesome."

The woman left and Meredith and Kevin stepped up to the window. "Two pints of…Bass, please," Meredith ordered, reading the menu. The clerk nodded and a minute later passed two large cups of amber ale to the duo.

"Thanks…mate," Kevin said, smiling at him. He gave him a confused half-smile in return.

* * *

The cameraman shot Jim from quite a distance, no doubt knowing that whatever he captured could easily be matched with audio caught by the mikes the branch members had had to wear for the trip. He stood alone in the quiet English garden, slouching against a stone wall and staring blankly ahead. Pam approached him from the side, unnoticed.

"Hey," she said gently. He looked over at her slowly and gave her a soft smile.

"Hey yourself."

"I was wondering where you went – you're missing out on Stanley and Phyllis in the spotlight." Just then a final burst of applause sounded from across the walk, signaling the end of the show. "Now you've officially missed it," she corrected, smiling.

"I'm sure Michael took enough pictures for an entire scrapbook," he said. Pam frowned lightly and stepped in front of him.

"Is everything okay?" she asked in concern, resting a hand on each side of his waist and leaning in some. He nodded.

"Yeah. I just needed a quiet moment…"

"…Alone?" she guessed, the tone of her voice hard to decipher. He gave a noncommittal shrug. "I can leave if you want."

Jim shook his head. "No. Of course not."

Pam smiled a little. "Good, 'cause I didn't really want to," she teased. He finally gave her a genuine smile and she went up on her tiptoes, tipping her chin upwards. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her softly. After pulling away he rubbed her arms lightly.

"I'm fine. I promise."

Pam wore the look of a woman not quite convinced, but nodded anyway. "Okay. Just making sure."

"Guys?" The address came from Judy, who had just rounded the corner. "We're gonna head into Canada now. Just wanted to let you know." She gave them a quick smile and turned to leave. Pam looked at Jim.

"Go or stay?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Jim's hands slid down her arms and he took her hands.

"I'm ready for Canada, eh?"

Pam laughed, letting go of one of his hands as they began their walk. "You are, eh?" she asked in response.

"I am…eh?"

As they left the garden Pam squeezed his hand, swinging it some. "I love you," she said, glancing at him. Jim grinned back at her.

"Love you too…eh?"

* * *

Judy held her arms wide as the group entered the Canada pavilion, the final one in the World Showcase. "Welcome to our neighbor to the north," she said. "Now I know it isn't too far of a drive for you all to get to Canada – just out of curiosity, how many have you been there before?"

All hands went up, save one belonging to Michael. When he noticed that, he put one up as well, albeit uncertainly. Judy's eyebrows rose some.

"Wow…okay, well, are you guys interested in poking around here?" A general silence was the reply. Michael looked as if he were about to say something, but upon noticing the others were remaining silent he just folded his arms. Judy shrugged. "All right. Well, before the fireworks we have one last attraction I was saving back in Future World. Are you guys ready for Mission: SPACE?"

She was met with a much more enthusiastic response, so she started for the walkway back to Future World.

* * *

Judy: (_near the water_) It's really no skin off my nose. Maybe it's just because I grew up so close to the Canadian border, and I'm sure anyone who knows Europe well could say the same about any of the other pavilions, but I always felt Canada here was sort of…lacking. Like, everyone in lumberjack shirts…? (_She arches an eyebrow._) _Don't_ tell anyone that works here I said that.

* * *

Michael: (_on a bench_) I would have liked to poke around in Canada, but I'm a giver. My employees wanted to leave, and I gave them that opportunity. (_He cocks his head to the side_.) Plus Jim said they spoke French there, and if they sleep with the enemy like that, maybe it _is _best I stay away. (_He shakes his head_.) That's so sad…after all the help they – as the north – provided in the Civil War…

* * *

Pam: (_next to a huge totem pole_) I _was _excited to see Canada…until Judy told me the booth that sold the beaver tails closed. That's such a disappointment. I love beaver tails.

Jim: (_jimming_) That's what she said?

Pam: (_nodding_) Yes she did.

* * *

Creed: (_perched on the "rocks" making up the waterfall in the center of the Canadian pavilion_) I think I'm just gonna camp here for the night. Be one with nature.

* * *

In front of a futuristic building decorated with huge metallic renditions of Earth, Mars and the moon, Judy looked at her charges in earnest. "Okay, guys, I saved the most intense for last. This is Mission: SPACE. This is the most technologically advanced attraction ever created by Disney. It's basically a simulated space adventure - from liftoff to the sensations of traveling though outer space, this is the real deal. Walt Disney Imagineering worked with former NASA advisors, astronauts and scientists to develop Mission: SPACE as the first ride system ever created to take guests straight up in simulated flight." She raised her eyebrows. "And I'm not going to mince words, it can be _very_…well, let's just say that those at all prone to motion sickness should stay away." She cast an apologetic look Pam's way. Pam shrugged and Jim squeezed her shoulder.

"I'll hang back with you, Pam," Phyllis volunteered. Pam shook her head.

"That's okay, Phyllis."

"No really, I don't mind…I don't think that German food agreed with me," Phyllis said, rubbing her stomach. Dwight gave her a smug look.

"Weak constitution," he spat at her, then stepped forward. "What about the stronger of us?" he asked Judy.

"Well, there are two versions of the ride to choose from. If you're at all nervous about riding, opt for the line on the right – it's the same experience, but less intense. For you daring souls that want to chance it, take the line to the left. Okay?"

The group divided – Angela and Kelly joined Phyllis and Pam, and Stanley and Andy opted for the tamer version. The rest headed into the other queue. Judy shot a worried look at Kevin, who was chugging the remainder of his Labatts before entering the building. "Are you sure you want to ride _this _version, Kevin?" she asked.

"Why not?"

"Well, _that_ for one," she answered, nodding toward his now-empty cup, "not to mention all the other ones you've had this afternoon."

"I'll b'fine," he assured her. Judy made a face.

"Kevin, really, I think…"

"Judy, you've gotta lemme live my life," he said seriously. "I'm a rolling stone."

Judy just stared after him as he shuffled inside.

* * *

The "braver" riders made their way down the hallway that served as an exit. First came Dwight, Jim, Judy and Darryl. Judy was smiling. Dwight appeared absolutely exhilarated. Jim and Darryl shared a high-five, then Jim flashed an enthusiastic, quite nerdy double thumbs up at the camera.

The second group of riders was another story.

Oscar wore a slightly dazed expression. Michael looked extremely green around the gills and walked slowly. Kevin stumbled, grabbing aimlessly at the wall. At the first trash can he saw he bent in half, retching. At the sound, Michael groaned and made a run for the next trash can.

Only Meredith looked completely unaffected. Spying her coworkers at opposite trash cans she sighed and shook her head. "Amateurs," she muttered.

* * *

Kevin: (_leaning against a wall in the exit hallway_; _pasty white_) That was rough.

* * *

As the rest of the group assembled on benches and against the railings around the World Showcase Lagoon for that night's "IllumiNations: Reflections of Earth" fireworks show, it was obvious Michael was missing. The shot wandered until it lit on the regional manager hiding unsuccessfully behind a tree. He was pulling his cell phone from his pocket. After dialing, he took a seat on the grass.

"Hey!"

"Oh not much, just waiting for the fireworks to start and I thought I'd call you."

"We're having a great time…learning, laughing, growing as a family. You know how we do."

"Yeah, tomorrow's our last day. Kinda sad."

"Yep yep. But enough about me. How are you?"

"Really?"

"Well how are you feeling? Any puking?"

"Good."

Michael smiled lightly. "Yeah, I, ah…I miss you too, Jan…"

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **I was going to explain all those German foods, but if you're _that _interested, you can look up the menu for the Biergarten at allears . net. Ultimately, it's just funny to imagine Dwight saying scary German phrases. And if you've somehow gone your whole life and _never _heard the Pennsylvania Polka - and as a Polish chick, I can't even fathom that - it's linked in my profile.

No offense intended to any of my Canadian pals. I love Canada the country dearly. Canada the pavilion? Sorta lame. You got shortchanged, my northern friends. (And if you didn't know, a beaver tail is like an elephant ear, but the ones they used to serve in the Canadian pavilion were apparently _the _best. Mr. Beets was obsessed with them and is still heartbroken to this day that the kiosk that served them closed.)

Strike up the band!

_Look at this chapter -  
Think it was neat?  
Can't wait to see what happens  
Before this tale's complete?  
Just leave me a review  
That would mean everything..._

Ooo...I got tricky on you. Hint: this _isn't _based on the chorus of the song...


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: In the last week I acquired all these properties. Nah, just kidding. But I did see _The Dark Knight..._in _IMAX._**

Howdy all! I'm back after my little hiatus. Got to see some friends, relax, celebrate my fourth anniversary (which is actually August 7, but you take your days when you can), and most importantly for you guys, plot out the last leg of this journey in detail. Hope you all are well and ready for more Disney magic and madness. You know I saved the Magic Kingdom for last on purpose, right?

* * *

Jim: (_outside the Everything Pop food court; hands deep in his pockets and attempting to look carefree_) Well, it's the last day, the day we spend at the Magic Kingdom. Aaand…well, let's just say it's a good thing I have three different proposal plans for today because…obviously I need them. Kinda hoped I wouldn't, but… (_He smirks, although it's a bit desperate in nature._) Always be prepared.

* * *

Dwight: (_near the breakfast buffet; furtively looks around before speaking quietly_) As today is the last day of our trip, obviously it is the last opportunity for challenges. The score thus far is a tie. Ringosaurus went to Andy. (_He scowls in a "big deal" way._) _I _dominated the drawing challenge. Andy won the turtle knowledge challenge, and after an assessment of how bruised we were I claimed victory in the polka competition. (_Dwight looks exhilerated._) Today will be interesting and will no doubt test the very limits of human endurance, but in the end I know _I_, Dwight K. Schrute, will emerge victorious.

* * *

As the Dunder Mifflin crew finished their breakfasts Judy gave them the rundown of what to expect at the Magic Kingdom. "It's definitely the most famous, and thus the most popular, of all four parks, and pairing that with the fact that it's a Saturday means that we'll probably have to deal with much longer lines than we have on the rest of the trip," she explained.

"Ugh," Michael groaned. "Lines?"

"Sorry. They're inevitable."

"There's _nothing_ you can do about it?" Michael pressed.

"Nope."

"Is there anything _we _can do?"

Judy shrugged. "Be patient?" she suggested with a smile.

Michael looked discouraged momentarily, then suddenly he perked up and shot a knowing glance at the camera. He bit his lips shut and attempted (unsuccessfully) to look casual.

"_You _can't get us to the front of lines?" Dwight asked, somewhat critically. Judy shook her head.

"I'm not allowed."

"You don't hold as much power as you claim to," he told her. Judy's brows met.

"I never claimed to hold any power."

Dwight smirked at her. "Obviously."

Judy, as she was known to do often this week, blinked silently. She then shook her head a little and continued. "It'll be quite hot again today so make sure you stay well hydrated as we wait, okay?" She raised an eyebrow. "With _water_. We don't serve alcohol at the Magic Kingdom, but even if we did, or someone somehow brought some in, _water _is your best bet," she elaborated, looking pointedly at Meredith and Kevin. Meredith scowled, but Kevin nodded.

"I learned my lesson," he said solemnly.

* * *

Kevin: (_at the bus stop; wearing an expression similar to that of a chastised child_) I should _not _have listened to Meredith. I should have listened to _Jim. _(_He shook his head._) It was a _bad _night. Thank goodness Creed never came back.

* * *

Oscar: (_at the bus stop; looking disgusted_) I share a room with Stanley _next_ _door_ to Kevin's room. I could hear_ everything_. _All_ night. (_He shudders at the memory._)

* * *

As the group made it through bag check and started onto Main Street USA, Judy gave them all a bright smile. "In the words of the man that started it all, 'to all who come to this happy place, welcome!'" she greeted her charges. Smiles were on the faces of all around her as they gazed upon Main Street, a place that gave one a nostalgic feeling of a happier time that they had never actually experienced. "About midway down Main Street we'll find one of the PhotoPass photographers and get a group shot in front of Cinderella Castle. Sound good?" Judy asked. She received a chorus of yeses, but rather than smile she looked confused. "We're missing someone," she said, looking around. "Where's Michael?"

Dwight was the first – and only – one to look concerned, immediately scanning the area. "All right, let's split into three separate search parties," he delegated. "I'll take Oscar, Stanley—"

"Fat chance," Stanley replied flatly.

"I don't think that's necessary, Dwight. Let's just check out the shops for a few minutes and hopefully Michael will catch up to us," Judy said. "We just got here; he can't be too far away."

* * *

Michael: (_at Guest Services; he is being shot from the shoulders up and looking wise_) You know, if there's one thing I pride myself on…well, there are many things, because I'm a man of many talents and accomplishments, but if there was one thing right _now _I'd pride myself on, it's my percep…tivity. I pick up on subtle hints and clues better than anyone I've ever met. Judy said the lines here would be bad, and I thought to myself, how can I avoid all that hassle? And the answer hit me. (_The shot widens and shows that he is sitting in one of the rented wheelchairs the park provides. His smile stretches from ear to ear as he attempts to pop a wheelie. After failing and nearly tipping, his enthusiasm is still evident as he chuckles._) If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. (_He awkwardly wheels himself out of the shot_.)

* * *

Kelly, Pam and Judy were looking at an unbelievably wide selection of Mickey ears at a shop called The Chapeau when Kelly excitedly grabbed the bridal Mickey ears off the shelf. "Omigod, these are _adorable_! I _love_ them!" she squealed. Pam nodded.

"I've seen a lot of girls in them," she said as she took another set off the shelf and examined them up close.

"It seems like almost anyone who gets engaged, gets married, or spends their honeymoon here picks up a set and wears them for her trip. And if she's _very_ persistent, she gets her guy to wear them too," Judy said.

"Did you?" Pam asked. Judy shook her head, smiling guiltily.

"Nope. I refused. So did my husband. I think I might have violated some stipulation in my contract."

Pam smiled too, but the smile quickly fell away as she looked down at the white ears she was slowly twirling around her finger. Kelly now had a groom's set as well and appeared to be making them dance together. "I would _love _to get married down here, and I could dress like a _total_ princess and be beautiful in a big gown. Or could you imagine getting _engaged_, like, in front of the _castle_ or something? _Omigod_, how _romantic_ is that?" Kelly dreamed aloud, cocking her head and gazing into the heavens.

Over her shoulder Darryl, who had been approaching, quickly turned and headed in the opposite direction. However, the shot cut back to Pam, who had stopped spinning the ears and replaced them on the shelf. Judy glanced at her out of the corner of her eye as Kelly called out to Angela. Angela frowned but did come over. "Angela, you _so_ have to get these, and make Andy wear the guy ones with the little top hat!" she gushed, forcing the white headband onto Angela's head before she could resist. Almost immediately Angela reached up and snatched it off.

"I _refuse _to wear those," she said.

"Why? Angela you _have _to! You're the _only_ one with a wedding coming up and they looked absolutely _adorable_! They were the _cutest_! Pam, were they not the _cutest_ things you've ever seen in your entire life?" Kelly inquired loudly, grabbing Pam's arm.

Pam, who had been staring at the ears she had put back on the shelf, jumped a little. She put on a quick smile and nodded. "They were cute," she agreed, crossing her arms. Angela merely gave one of her eyebrows a good arch and walked away silently. Pam followed shortly thereafter.

Judy and Kelly remained, although the former watched Pam carefully as the latter continued on about her dream wedding.

* * *

Pam: (_standing outside the shop; one arm wrapped around her middle_) Oh yeah, they are cute. But I kind of agree with Judy. I mean, who wants to wear those? It's so hot out, and by wearing them it's kind of bragging, like, "Oh, I'm engaged…or married, wow, look at me…" (_She shrugs._) It'd be a lot of attention…you know what I mean. Who wants that? (_She musters up a dismissive half-smile._)

* * *

Everyone had reassembled midway down Main Street, and had circled the Dapper Dans, Walt Disney World's famous barbershop quartet. They were just finishing a rendition of "Goodbye, My Coney Island Baby." Andy stood as close to them as he could, lip-synching along and practically conducting them. After they finished and were given a round of applause, the baritone stepped forward. "Any requests?" he asked. An older man finally called out, "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," into which the Dans happily launched. Pam nudged Jim.

"I'm amazed," she said quietly, smiling up at him. He returned the gesture.

"Why's that?"

"I thought for sure you'd ask for 'Baby On Board.'"

Jim shrugged. "I wanted to, but I felt like I'd hit my quota on _Simpsons' _references this trip. It was hard enough not to say 'Shop Kwik-E-Mart and save!' during the last song."

Pam's eyebrows shot up. "A quota on _Simpsons' _references? I didn't know that was possible," she teased.

Before Jim could respond Judy gestured that they move away from the performance and get set up for a group photo in front of the castle. As everyone got arranged Judy gazed around again. "I really thought we would have met back up with Michael," she said, mostly to herself. Dwight shook his head.

"Let me get a task force assembled," he begged of her. "I'm a skilled tracker."

"Not necessary, Dwight," a voice boomed from behind them. Judy and Dwight turned around and looked down to see Michael there in his wheelchair, smiling grandly at them.

"Michael, what happened?" Dwight asked worriedly as Judy shook her head.

"Nothing happened."

"Then why are you in a wheelchair? What's the matter? Are you injured? Who did this to you?" Dwight demanded, looking around angrily. Andy appeared at Michael's side.

"Just tell us, Boss, we'll take care of it…and by 'we' I mean 'me,'" he promised. Michael peeked at the camera as he shook his head.

"I'm fine. No one hurt me," he assured them.

"If you're fine why are you in a wheelchair?" Phyllis asked.

"To get around lines, obviously," he answered, then waved his hand. "Not selfishly. Just because lines are bad for my …inter…stitial…femuritis…lupus," he quickly amended. "Real thing. It was on _House _once."

"Oh, _that_," Jim said, giving the camera a self-explanatory jim.

"You don't have that," Pam said, but Michael ignored her as he wheeled himself to the front of the group.

"It's sporastic, Pam," he told her condescendingly, "with only occasional flareups."

"Duh," Jim said to Pam, who rolled her eyes.

"Michael, I've seen your medical records – there was no mention of—" Dwight began, but Michael waved him off.

"Not _now_, Dwight. C'mon! Let's get this picture started! Hah!" Michael exclaimed.

Judy sighed, but just gestured to the photographer that they were ready.

* * *

Judy: (_in a smoking area near Tomorrowland; nodding_) Again: should have seen that coming.

* * *

The group started in a counterclockwise direction around the park, and so Tomorrowland was their first stop. Stitch's Great Escape! was the first attraction, and all had opted for it save Jim and Pam, who looked at it in confusion. Judy glanced at them before entering.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

Pam shook her head. "Wasn't this originally something…else?" she wondered, looking thoughtful.

Judy nodded. "It was the ExtraTERRORestrial Alien Encounter for years," she informed them. Jim nodded emphatically.

"That's _right_ – I remember that. It had just opened the last time I was here. It was awesome." He shrugged as Pam grinned. "At twelve years old, anyway," he finished sheepishly.

"I remember that too. What happened to it?" Pam asked.

Judy shrugged too. "It was deemed 'too scary,'" she said, using fairly sarcastic air quotes. "Stitch got to take over a few years ago."

Jim made a face. "_That_ is lame."

Judy nodded subtly. "I couldn't agree more," she confided before heading in. Jim looked to Pam.

"Pass?" he asked.

"Pass," she seconded.

* * *

Judy: (_in front of Space Mountain_) What? Hey, I'm sorry; he's right. It _is _lame.

* * *

"'Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin,'" Andy read off the marquee in front of the corresponding attraction. He looked to Judy. "What is this?"

"It's pretty cool. It puts you in a video game; you get to shoot at targets as you travel through the ride," she told him.

"Does it keep score?" Dwight questioned.

"Sure does," she replied, then headed off with a few others to join the queue for Space Mountain. Dwight nodded.

"Excellent. Next challenge."

Andy looked around. "Now c'mon, man, Michael's not anywhere around. How could you know that?" he inquired sharply.

"Are you doubting Michael?"

"No, but…" Andy looked torn. "I mean, this is just starting to seem weird to me. Fishy, if you will."

"I won't. You could always forfeit."

Andy glanced at Angela, who looked neutral. He sighed. "No, I'm not gonna forfeit. I just think there's something weird going on," he grumbled as he slumped off to get in line.

Dwight looked slightly alarmed, but marched toward the entrance without another word.

Angela simply looked nervous as she followed the pair.

* * *

At the boarding area for Space Mountain, Jim and Pam inadvertantly met back up with Michael, who was still in his wheelchair. He waved happily as they approached. "Hey, I was waiting for you guys – or anyone, really," he told them.

"Why's that?" Jim asked. Michael's eyes darted to the attendant.

"I need assistance," he said loudly, then lowered his voice to a whisper that was more than easily audible. "I don't want to blow my cover."

"What do you mean? You _don't _have interstitial femuritis lupus?" Jim asked, sounding shocked. Michael looked alarmed.

"No, of course I do, of course I do. I just…will you just help me get on?"

"No and that's what she said," Jim answered. Michael smiled only briefly.

"C'mon, _Jim_, just…_dammit_, just help me."

"Sir, are you going to board?" the attendant asked, sounding impatient.

"Yes, as soon as I get _assistance_," Michael said, giving Jim a loaded look. Jim sighed and stepped closer to Michael, apparently seeing this as the easiest way to avoid a scene. "Thank you, _finally_," Michael offered sarcastically. "Pampers, hold my chair still."

Following Jim's lead, Pam went around behind Michael's wheelchair and held the handlebars. Michael exaggeratedly struggled to his feet as he clung to Jim, making great noise in the process. Jim shot an agonized look at both his girlfriend and the camera, finally depositing Michael none-too-gracefully in the seat. He went to take a seat of his own behind him with Pam and Michael glared at him. "You won't even sit with me?" he whined.

Jim was spared an answer by the coaster starting and propelling them into the darkness.

* * *

At Walt Disney's Carrousel of Progress, Creed and Stanley sat and watched the scene before them. Act I, a scene from the turn of the last century, was wrapping up, and their mustached, animatronic narrator launched into the attraction's famous theme song.

"_There's a great big beautiful tomorrow,  
__Shining at the end of every day -  
__There's a great big beautiful tomorrow,  
__And tomorrow is just a dream away!_"

Stanley began bopping his head along, but quickly stopped and looked to Creed. Creed was doing the same thing. When he caught Stanley watching him he shrugged. "It's catchy," he said with no regret. Stanley's rare smile made an appearance and he nodded.

"Yes it is," he agreed and promptly began bopping again.

* * *

Dwight and Andy sat in separate green space vehicles at Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin. The attendant briefly explained that they could rotate the cars as they proceeded through the course and told them to aim at the Z's, which served as targets, to rack up points. However, when the ride began moving into the blacklit outer space scene, Dwight spun his car around and began aggressively shooting at Andy.

"I'm not a target, stupid!" Andy cried, but fired back with equal ferociousness.

"You are the enemy!" Dwight replied, aiming the red dot that served as his guide directly between Andy's eyes as he continued shooting.

Angela raised her eyebrows as she glanced down at the scoreboard on the "dash" of the tiny ship. "You aren't getting any points," she said, her eyes straying toward Dwight.

Neither paid her a whit of attention. They had to re-rotate their cars to face each other as they moved through the ride, so only occasionally did one of their shots ever have an opportunity to hit any of the targets on the walls around them. Angela tried to warn them a few more times but again was ignored. She watched, seemingly in fear, as Andy accidentally scored ten points here and there as he spun the car, and looked to Dwight urgently. His gaze never dropped from the stare down with Andy.

Finally the ride reached its end and both competitors checked their scores. "What'd you get?" Andy asked.

"Thirty points," Dwight answered. Andy threw his arms in the air.

"Fifty big ones!" he announced triumphantly. Dwight sighed.

"Dammit!"

A boy no more than eight took in this exchange in disbelief.

"Whoa, you _suck_!" he told them. Andy shot him a dirty look.

"Why, what'd _you _get?"

The boy laughed. "I got, like, 400,000!" he bragged as he jogged off.

"How'd he get that?" Andy mused aloud.

"Oh I don't know, maybe by shooting at the _targets_?" Angela replied angrily, casting a disapproving look Dwight's way as she stormed off.

* * *

Dwight: (_outside the ride; looking upset_) I lost. My only consolation is that had that been a _real_ laser, Andrew Bernard would now be blind and riddled with holes in his head, neck and torso. (_His look turns devious_.) Maybe it's a slow developing laser. (_A long pause, during which he no doubt considers what that would mean for him, as he rubs his forehead gingerly and squints his eyes._)

* * *

Pam: (_at the exit for Space Mountain; grinning_) Despite having to help Michael, I give this two thumbs up. Jim?

_Jim is next to her, looking shell shocked. He shakes his head gravely. Pam laughs._

Pam: Jim's convinced he was about to be decapitated.

Jim: (_holding his hand an inch above his head_) The ceiling was _right here_.

_Pam shakes her head. Jim glances at her, then back at the camera_.

Jim: (_his hand in the same place_) Seriously. _Right here_.

* * *

On their way out of Tomorrowland Dwight looked up and read the sign to the right of him. "Tomorrowland Indy Speedway," he said softly, then grabbed Andy. "Come on," he said, practically dragging him toward the miniature raceway.

"Already?" Andy asked.

"Yes."

Andy pointed ahead of them at Michael, who was wheeling himself in circles gleefully. "Fine. Get Michael over here."

"What?" Dwight spluttered.

"You heard me, Schrute. I want a real witness when I pound you, or I'm not doing it," Andy ruled, crossing his arms.

"Then that's…that's a win for me by default," Dwight said, not sounding as sure of himself as he should. Andy shrugged.

"Don't care. And I bet that's not even in the rules anyway."

Dwight looked around frantically and spotted Jim. "Jim will serve as judge again," he improvised. Andy didn't looked thrilled, but finally nodded.

"Fine. Tuna! Let's go!" he called out.

"Go where?" Jim asked.

"You're judging our racing…thing," Andy told him.

Jim looked from Dwight to Andy and, apparently ruling it too promising a scene to miss, nodded. "I'll be watching you from up there," he said, pointing at a bridge that stretched over the track. The warriors nodded and headed for the line. Pam looked at Jim as they walked to the bridge.

"Do you have any idea what they're up to?" she asked.

"None. And that makes it even better."

* * *

Dwight sat in a red car in the far right lane; Andy in a yellow car in the middle lane. Anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention could see that there was no way that this could be a race; the cars could not escape their own lanes. Nevertheless, the two Dunder Mifflin employees drove the 4/10 of a mile track as if battling for the Indianapolis 500.

This seemed to be yet another event that would end in a tie, but no more than one hundred feet short of the finish line Dwight's car experienced some sort of malfunction and simply stopped. His eyes went wide and he pounded the steering wheel.

"Go! _Go!_" he ordered the little red auto, to no avail.

"Come on!" Angela yelled from the bridge, although it wasn't clear at which man she was yelling. Jim and Pam both glanced at her oddly.

"Eat my dust!" Andy called as he puttered by, reaching the finish a moment later.

After a lot of confusion Dwight was assisted off the track safely and taken to the exit area. "I'm so sorry about that," the young attendant apologized. "I don't know what happened."

"The car was stopped by your sheer suckitude," Andy said to Dwight, rubbing it in.

"Can I get you a FastPass so you can come back and ride again later?" the attendant offered Dwight, who replied with a look that screamed hatred.

"I will _never _ride this again," he spat, giving Andy a spiteful look too and walking away. Jim and Pam joined the winner a moment later.

"Congratulations?" Jim said. Andy ducked his head in faux modesty.

"Thanks Tuna. Appreciate that. Don't forget to tell Michael when you report to him that I am now up by two."

"And I'm reporting to Michael why, again?" Jim asked.

Andy stared at him, his eyes narrowed.

* * *

Andy: (_at the exit to the speedway; very irritated_) Yeah, I'm up by two on Dwight now. But seriously, I'm starting to get pre-tty damn suspicious about this whole thing. I mean, even _Tuna _seemed clueless. Just _what _is going on here?

* * *

**A/N Pt II: **Okay, possibly the best bonus bit of all...the fantastic HalloweenJack138 has been writing the _coolest _deleted scenes for this story in lieu of reviews, and he kindly agreed to let me compile them into a fun corresponding piece for the story. I make no secret of my fangirl-ness in regards to his skill, so I'm thrilled about this. I finally finished the graphic (and I'm just gonna say it - it looks pretty frickin' cool), so go to the Casa de Bears and check 'em out. **UPDATED 8/02: **I moved the graphic to a new link that will display it at its original, intended size. _Much _better.

Also, your (always appreciated and dearly loved!), reviews are starting to get increasingly more concerned about what happens to our beloved Jim and Pam. Well, I'd really like to know what _you _predict will happen - are they getting engaged? If so, where? How? Or if not, why? Granted the story is done, and _I _know what happens, but I just thought this might be fun. If I get enough I'll compile them into their own cool graphic. So all you regular reviewers, all you lurkers, let's go! How come _I _gotta do all the work? :)

And don't worry that this is the last day...there is _lots _of story left.

_How happy I will be  
If you leave a review for me  
A clear reflection of the way  
You feel about this tale...  
It's been a wacky ride  
Doin' my best, I've sure tried -  
Reviews are a reflection of  
Just how you feel inside..._

Oh wow. Those last two lines...yikes. Not so good.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: If I owned this, I'd light my cigs with strings of pearls! And I don't do that.**

Back so soon? Ah yes, yet another chapter. Perhaps my favorite. But don't let that sway you. I'm an idiot.

* * *

As the group crossed from Tomorrowland to Mickey's Toontown Fair, the second land on their tour around the Magic Kingdom, Judy began her famous backwards walk to address her guests. "This area is really geared toward kids, but it's also the only place where you can get the coveted picture with Mickey," she told them. She raised her head. "You all right back there, Michael?" she called.

The camera panned back to find the regional manager perspiring as he attempted to keep up. "This is tough…this chair weighs a ton," he panted, then looked at his employees pathetically. "I need a push."

"In more ways than one," Stanley muttered. It was the only response to the request.

"C'mon, guys, _seriously_, I'm in _need_ back here," Michael continued begging.

Dwight, who had been lagging behind, caught up when he caught wind of Michael's distress, but the moment that he attempted to assist suddenly Andy hurried over to shove him out of the way. "Only _winners_ should get such a privilege," Andy growled as he hip-checked Dwight out of the way. Dwight glared at him momentarily before acquiescing and moving aside. Triumphantly Andy began pushing Michael, who slumped backward in his seat.

"Oh thank _God_," he breathed, not bothering to also thank Andy. He then smiled and perked up a bit. "Pop a wheelie!" he commanded. Andy did as he was told, and both yelled excitedly.

Judy rolled her eyes. "Anyway, for anyone interested, Mickey can be found up ahead in the Judge's Tent, and there are lots of other characters to meet and greet at the Toowntown Hall of Fame. There's also a fun little rollercoaster called The Barnstormer. If neither of those sound appealing, just grab some fruit at the Toowntown Farmer's Market and find a seat in the shade. We'll meet back up in twenty minutes or so. Deal?"

"Deal," most answered, minus Andy and Michael, who were still crowing over wheelchair maneuvers, and Dwight, who was back to walking dejectedly with his head down. He didn't seem to notice Angela casually slowly her pace to match his. When she was at his side she made a point of looking in the opposite direction.

"D," she murmured, still not looking at him. He raised his head in surprise, but only glanced at her for a moment before staring straight ahead instead.

"Yes?" he asked gently.

"Meet me in Minnie's house in five minutes. We need to talk." Her tone didn't convey what the tone of the discussion might be, and she quickly veered off toward the pink and lavender bungalow before Dwight could reply. He watched her go with his lips pursed.

* * *

In the Toontown Hall of Fame, Kevin waited patiently in the "Toon Pals" line. When Oscar entered behind him Kevin gave him (what was for Kevin) a look of genuine surprise. Oscar shrugged, embarrassed.

"I've always liked Donald Duck," he confessed, "especially from _The Three Caballeros_."

"He _is _cool," Kevin agreed. "I had my first crush on Daisy Duck."

Oscar stared hard at his fellow accountant. "That's…weird," he finally finished.

Kevin nodded. "I know," he said with acceptance.

* * *

Michael: (_outside the Judge's Tent; looking nervous_) Well, this is it. My chance to apologize to Mickey face-to-face about any…nastiness in the past. I brought him a peace offering… (_He shifts some before pulling a red trip t-shirt from under him, displaying it proudly for the camera_) I got him a red one to match his pants. It'll make for a great photo op, right? (_He nods with finality, signaling he is done speaking, but the camera doesn't shut off, and neither does Michael leave. After a minute he sighs and looks around._) Andy! (_There's a long pause. Michael frowns._) _An-dy!_

_Andy finally appears, out of breath._

Andy: (_bent over, his hands on his thighs_) Yeah Boss?

Michael: I'm done. We can go.

Andy: (_still catching his breath_) Oh…okay. I was gonna go…ride the Barnstormer.

Michael: (_shakes his head in disappointment_; _sarcastically_) Fine. I'll just go alone. (_He wheels himself off angrily._)

_Andy stares after him, then looks at the camera._

Andy: Was that a bad call on my part?

* * *

Tucked away in a corner of Minnie's craft room, Dwight found Angela waiting, staring at Minnie's home spun fabrics. She turned at his approach and gave the camera a dirty look (causing the cameraman to back off slightly), then turned away again. No stranger to this tactic, Dwight stood behind her and studied a portrait of Mickey on the mall.

"I came as soon as I could," he said quietly. "What's going on?"

"You're down by _two_ challenges," Angela said, not mincing words. Dwight looked down in shame.

"I know."

"I've learned of a weakness of Andy's," she revealed, her eyes fiery.

Dwight immediately perked up. "What is it?"

"Spinning. He can't tolerate it."

Dwight's eyes went wide. "Fascinating."

Angela now looked down. "I feel terrible telling you this. It seems…devious."

"It is," Dwight said in admiration, then grinned in a disturbingly adorable way. "One might even say it's…_sabotage_."

Despite clear effort, Angela couldn't keep a smile from her face as well. "Perhaps," was all she said in response, then grew serious again. "I've got to go. Do what you will with that information." She hurried off before Dwight could see the blush rising to her cheeks.

Dwight remained, looking happily lost in thought.

* * *

The camera caught up with Jim and Pam as they waited in line to meet and greet the Mouse that started it all. The family ahead of them posed for a few shots, with the youngest child striking "extreme" poses. Pam was shaking her head and laughing as she watched; while she looked away Jim took the opportunity to nod subtly in the direction of Mickey, jim significantly and display a "one" with the hand at his side. As Pam turned back to him Michael wheeled his way up behind them. Jim frowned lightly as Michael bumped him in the leg with the chair's footrests.

"Hey Jimbo, Pam-bone," he greeted them, out of breath.

"Hi," Pam returned. "Where's Andy?"

"Riding the rollercoaster. I'm on official Dunder Mifflin business. Very important stuff."

"What business would that be?" Jim asked.

"I'm here to make amends with Mickey about the water mark incident," Michael said as if it were obvious.

"You think Mickey knows about that?" Pam asked, trying to remain serious.

Michael gave her a look. "It was in the news; I don't see how he could have missed it. Anyway, I brought him a gift-" he held up the t-shirt on his lap, "-and I think a photo op will really help show that all gates are mended."

Pam tried to catch her boyfriend's eye, but Jim just nodded genially. "That's a great plan, Michael. In fact, why don't you go ahead of us? That's much more important than our picture."

"Thanks Jim," Michael said as he wheeled himself between the couple, going over Pam's toe in the process and making her wince. As they waited for the family ahead of them to finish their time with Mickey, Michael glanced back over his shoulder. "Hey, Jim, do you want to be in the picture too? Scranton's number one and number two with Disney's number one head honcho?" he invited. Jim shook his head.

"I think it'll be much more...impactful if it was just the two of you," he said, "but thanks."

"You're probably right," Michael agreed. Mickey sent the family away with a friendly wave, and his handler gestured to Michael, who smiled as he pushed himself forward. Pam smiled up at Jim.

"That was nice of you, letting him go first," she observed quietly. Jim shrugged.

"If I hadn't, you know he would've tried to jump in _our_ picture, and I really don't think he'd enhance that memento much...or at all, really," he said, his hands deep in his pockets. Pam nodded.

"Very true."

Jim raised his eyebrows at the camera as his right hand jiggled in his pocket, seemingly grasping something.

Michael, in the meantime, stepped out of his chair effortlessly and approached Mickey with an outstretched hand. "Mickey, it's an honor to meet you!"

Mickey put his hands to his face as if embarrassed by such sentiment, then shook Michael's hand animatedly.

"I am Michael Scott, regional manager of the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin Paper Company," he introduced himself as his hand was pumped up and down. He glanced at the gloved hand holding his own and, looking uncomfortable, pulled his away gingerly. "Anyway, I'm sure a memo crossed your desk about an atrocious misuse of your person...or, ah, mouse-age in a water mark that slipped past our quality assurance about a year ago."

Mickey took on the pose of Rodin's _The Thinker _- albeit while standing - before shrugging broadly. Michael looked surprised. For their parts, Jim and Pam simply jimmed.

"Really? Well, it was major news. Can't believe you didn't. But in light of such a stressful time I may or may not have said that I wasn't a fan of yours." There was a pause. "Okay, I may have said that. I _did_ say that."

Mickey hung his head and Michael rushed to pat him on the back.

"But hey, buddy, that's why I'm here - to tell you that's not true! I think you're great!"

Mickey threw a jubilant fist in the air and Michael chuckled.

"So are you two ready for your picture?" the photographer asked. Michael nodded.

"Yes, absofruitly. I just want to give Mickey this shirt first," he said as he held it out. Mickey put a hand to his heart and moved as if to take it, but Michael pulled it back as his face lit up. "I just had a great idea. Why don't you wear it, Mickey? Show your love for the Dunder Mifflin team?"

Mickey gestured to his tuxedo jacket and shirtfront that made up his judge's costume, and his handler stepped forward some. "Why don't you just hold it up for the picture? Mickey's already wearing his outfit for the day," she told Michael, smiling. Michael waved her off.

"No biggie, I'll just give him a hand - I ordered him a 6X so it should fit with no problem," he said breezily, gathering the shirt in his hands and stepping up to Mickey. Mickey tried to duck and weave away but Michael managed to get the shirt over one ear.

"Hey buddy, just…hold still there," he said with a forced chuckle.

"Oh sir, no, please-" the handler began nervously, rushing forward.

"Michael, c'mon," Jim said, without any hint of the casual attitude he usually had toward Michael's shenanigans. Pam had been looking mildly entertained to that point, but at the strange tone in Jim's voice had looked at him quickly, her expression one of concern.

"Just...hold on...lemme pull..." Michael grunted, pulling hard on the shirt. Mickey was gently pushing him away by the shoulders, still moving his head to and fro.

"Sir..." The handler looped her hand through the crook in Michael's elbow but he paid her no mind.

"Michael. Seriously? Stop," Jim said, sounding almost angry. His right hand twitched faster in its pocket as he stepped forward.

"Just one more...tug," Michael promised, but with that one tug he pulled off Mickey's head, and left a much smaller one in its place, one belonging to a young woman in a sweaty blond ponytail who was blinking at the sudden bright light.

"Oh my God!" Mickey's new head cried, looking around in terror.

"Oh my God," the handler whispered, rushing to grab the formerly attached head and slamming it back in place, backwards.

"Oh. My. _God_," Jim managed through gritted teeth.

"Oh (_bleep_)," Michael breathed.

"I can't see!" the head inside Mickey's cried as arms flailed about, the t-shirt still dangling from the big black ear. The handler put a steadying arm around Mickey.

"Mickey needs a quick break, she announced, hurrying Mickey to a side door and glaring at Michael as she helped her charge through. The door slammed behind them, but opened again a moment later as the shirt was thrown back at Michael, hitting him square in the face. All was deathly quiet. Finally Michael turned back to Jim and Pam.

"Wow...can you _believe_ that?"

Both stared back at him wordlessly.

"Can you believe Mickey is played by a _girl_?" he continued in amazement. Jim's jaw visibly clenched. After a long stare Michael's way he bowed his head and took Pam's hand.

"Come on," he said, his voice eerily quiet. Pam shook her head at Michael before Jim led her away. Michael watched them in confusion, then pivoted and looked at the photographer.

"Did you get _any _kind of shot there?" he asked rather hopefully, slinging the shirt over his shoulder. "Before his head...you know."

The photographer just shook his head.

* * *

Back near the entrance to Mickey's Toontown Fair Judy stood chatting with a few of the Dunder Mifflin employees while they waited for the last few stragglers to return. Jim and Pam joined them a moment later, no longer holding hands and both looking solemn, although Pam's solemnity was mixed with confusion while Jim's bore a definite note of anger. Michael arrived shortly thereafter, remarkably quiet. When Andy saw him he immediately took his place behind the chair and began pushing.

"Thanks, Andy," he almost whispered. His gaze bounced skittishly between Judy and the camera. He looked like a child with a terrible secret.

Judy studied him a long moment before apparently deciding it wasn't worth pursuing. "Okay, we're all here…time for Fantasyland!" Judy announced, starting to walk. "It's probably what most people picture when they think of a Disney park, and Walt loved it. He once said it was a 'world of imagination, hopes and dreams,' a 'timeless land of enchantment,' and that Fantasyland was 'dedicated to the young at heart, to those who believe that when you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.'"

Most heard these quotes and smiled; if possible they made Jim and Pam look even less happy.

Judy continued describing what could be found in this "land of enchantment," and once they reached the entrance the group began to splinter off, Michael – by way of Andy – more quickly than anyone. Pam looked up at Jim, attempting to smile.

"Want to ride 'it's a small world' with me?" she asked. Jim cocked his head.

"Mind if I sit that one out? I think I need some water…maybe some shade or something," he replied, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Sure," she said, almost curtly.

"I'll meet up with you afterwards," he promised. Pam nodded.

"Okay," she said, just as clipped in tone. As she started to leave Angela joined her.

"I'll ride with you, Pam. That's the attraction that has all the small dolls, correct?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks Angela," Pam said, giving Angela the full smile she hadn't found for Jim. Angela smiled back primly and the two headed off.

With a halfhearted jim at the camera and a noticeable sigh, Jim wandered away too, walking slowly.

* * *

Kevin: (_in front of Dumbo the Flying Elephant_) I was really bummed that I couldn't get on my favorite ride from when I was a kid.

(_The scene cuts to a flashback of Kevin attempting mightily to squeeze his bulk into one of the small flying elephants. Several children are standing behind him, laughing. He is half in and struggling when a ride operator walks up, gently rests a hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. Kevin shoots an embarrassed look camera-ward._)

Kevin: I _was _bummed, but then my gay buddy managed to cheer me up. (_He happily holds up a giant ice cream cone covered in sprinkles. The shot pans back to include Oscar at Kevin's right. He shrugs awkwardly._)

Oscar: It's the least I could do.

Kevin: (_plopping a heavy hand on Oscar's shoulder_) Thanks, dude.

* * *

In a manipulation no one managed to film, Kelly had somehow convinced Darryl to ride Cinderella's Golden Carrousel. Kelly was now perched happily on a fine white pony in a red bridle and saddle, while Darryl slouched on one in green riding gear.

"Isn't this _so_ beautiful, and _so_ romantic?" Kelly sighed. "I mean, the castle's right there…it couldn't be more perfect."

Darryl eyed a screaming three year old on the steed ahead of him whose mother was clearly at the end of her rope and sighed too. "I'm pretty damn sure it could."

* * *

Pam and Angela had been silent on their singing doll-led tour through Europe, Asia, Africa, Latin America and unspecific tropical islands, but as they neared the white, sparkling finale scene Angela turned to Pam.

"I have a question for you," she informed the receptionist. Pam looked at her curiously.

"Okay."

"Did you ever betray Roy?" Angela questioned, lowering her voice. Pam looked flustered as her eyes darted toward the camera.

"Um…I'm not sure how to answer that," she finally said. Angela narrowed her eyes and Pam's gaze went down to her lap, where she began toying with her fingers. "I mean…well, you're going to judge me when I say this-"

"No I won't," Angela blurted. Pam looked at her momentarily before looking at her lap again.

"Well, I just don't know that there's an easy way to answer that. I mean, I never intended to hurt…or, ah, betray Roy, but I know that I did some things that probably weren't…"

"Right?" Angela filled in knowingly. Pam finally met her eyes again.

"Yeah," she said, sounding surprised. Angela's face wore a ghost of a smile.

"I _do _know what you mean," she revealed, then took her turn staring at her folded hands. "Do you think it was because you didn't…love him enough?"

There was a long silence between the two (not in the ride - the famous song rang out around them as they passed through the final area, full of flowers bearing the word "goodbye" in a variety of languages). Finally Pam nodded.

"I think so," she answered quietly.

The boat pulled back up to the dock, but Pam and Angela were stopped from disembarking by Phyllis. "Hi girls," she greeted them, grinning. "The ride guy said you guys could stay on and we could all ride again together, if you want."

Angela squirmed some but Pam nodded. "Sure. I wouldn't mind another ride." She smiled at Angela. "How about you?"

"Yes. That sounds nice," she answered haltingly.

Phyllis beamed. "Oh good. I just love this ride, and the song." She leaned in between Angela and Pam. "_It's a world of laughter, a world of tears, it's a world of hopes and a world of fears…_"

* * *

The camera filmed Judy from a fair distance as she wandered into a quiet, wooded smoking area around the corner from Peter Pan's Flight. Her eyes widened some when she spotted Jim seated on one of the benches. His elbows were resting on his knees and his head hung low between his shoulders. "Hey," she said softly, coming to join him on the bench.

Jim raised his head just enough to see her and gave her a nod. "Hey."

"Where's Pam?"

"On small world." It was silent a moment as Judy pulled her cigarettes and lighter from her backpack. Wordlessly she held the pack out to Jim, and he studied it in earnest for a long beat before shaking his head. "Although if there were a day I would start, this would be it," he told her.

Judy smiled wanly. "That bad, huh?" she asked as she lit her cigarette.

Jim ran a hand over his face and through his hair as he sat back. "I was just sitting here trying to figure out if my life became a bad sitcom _after _the cameras started filming it, or was it always a bad sitcom that just _happened_ to get caught on tape?"

Judy smiled all-too-knowingly. "And the answer?"

"Jury's still out."

There were quiet again as Judy took a long drag. "Well here's _my_ question, and maybe you'll be able to answer this one more easily."

"I doubt it at this point, but shoot."

"Why don't you just ask her already?"

Jim's head whirled to meet Judy's inquisitive look. "What?" he managed.

"You know what I mean."

He nodded slowly. "I do," he said, then narrowed his eyes, "I'm just wondering how _you_ know?"

Judy shrugged and took a quick drag. "I pay close attention to my guests. It's kind of my job," she answered on exhale.

Jim gave her an impressed jim. "You're _good_."

"Thanks," Judy accepted modestly, then leaned forward. "So…?"

Jim sighed. "I should. I know I should just _ask_ her, and not let it matter how, or where, or anything like that. I know she wouldn't care either." He paused self-consciously for a moment, and then the words started tumbling out in chunks. "I just…it took us a _long _time to get here, to being together. And so much of it just…_sucked_." Jim's face twisted, no doubt in memory of those years of unrequited love. "It was really hard, on both of us. But…we finally made it, you know? And it's…everything I hoped for." The corner of his mouth quirked upward some as he stared off into the distance. "And I just…I know it isn't practical, especially when you have _these_ people around you to throw a wrench into anything, but I want to…I don't know, _honor_ what we've been through with a proposal that shows her how much I love her, which means it's gotta be…amazing." His gaze dropped, as did his voice. "Because I love her more than anything. I want to spend my life with her," he finished softly, then chanced an embarrassed look at Judy. "Does that make sense?"

Judy smiled and held up her left hand. "Yeah, I know how that feels," she replied, wiggling her ring finger that was encircled by a small band of diamonds. Jim laughed softly.

"How'd _he_ do it?"

"My husband?" Judy asked. Jim nodded. Judy's smile spread. "Without a ring while we were watching cartoons in bed."

Jim finally smiled genuinely. "Really?"

"Really," Judy affirmed, "and I wouldn't have had it any other way."

"Why didn't _I _think of that?" Jim lamented lightly. Judy nudged him with her shoulder, still smiling kindly.

"Because you're a hopeless romantic, obviously. I bet it's one of the things she loves most about you. And I understand what you're saying, completely." Judy laid a gentle hand on his knee. "But she _knows_ you're planning on asking, and the longer you take, the more she'll start to worry."

Jim put his hand through his hair again. "I know. I know she knows I'm planning something. Hell, _I _told her that. And I'm pretty sure she knows about my first failed effort a few weeks ago, and probably some of them here too," he admitted.

Judy's brow furrowed. "How many plans have you had?" Jim leaned a little in order to reach into his back pocket and pull out a folded sheet of legal paper. He handed it to Judy and watched as she skimmed the list, her eyebrows arching. "Wow. You have screwed up a _lot_ of plans, Jim," she said, giving him a teasing grin. He nodded.

"No kidding."

She took another long drag. "Would you like me to help you set something up? Despite Dwight's opinion to the contrary, I _do _have some pull around here."

Jim mulled that over. "Maybe. I'd like to try one more of my own plans first."

"Is that this one?" she asked, pointing at something near the bottom of the paper.

"Yeah. Although with all the luck I've had lately, no doubt the place will spontaneously burst into flames or something."

"I wouldn't doubt it. But I'll make a few calls, and if that doesn't work, let me know. I'll give you my cell phone number just in case we're separated." She tossed her butt in the ashtray and held out a hand. "Deal?"

Jim took it and shook, giving her a smile. "Deal," he agreed.

"Just out of curiosity, what was your original plan? I mean before you got here?"

"From a few weeks ago?" Jim asked. Judy nodded, and so he gave her a quick recap of Toby's party. Judy looked thoughtful as he finished, but finally stood and slung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Very interesting," she said. "Ready?"

"Yep." Jim stood too, and replaced his list in his pocket as the two left the smoking area.

* * *

The group reconvened at Snow White's Scary Adventures, mostly because Michael had yelled out into the crowd ceaselessly as he saw each of them pass.

"What's going on?" Judy asked warily as she joined Michael's side.

"Not much, I just thought we could all check out this haunted house together," he said, grinning.

Judy looked as if she was mentally debating telling Michael the ride was far from a haunted house, but instead shrugged. "All right," she said simply. Michael nodded and wheeled himself toward the gate marked with the wheelchair access sign that allowed them to bypass the line.

"Come on, guys!" he called.

"Michael, everyone doesn't need to get on with you-"

"Judy, you said that wheelchair people got to ride with _all _their guests," he reminded her gleefully as the ride operator came to open the gate.

"Yes, but most guests don't travel with-"

"How many with you sir?" the operator asked, smiling.

"Fourteen," Michael answered promptly. The operator's smile fell some.

"Oh, uh…"

"Michael, come on," Judy urged, but Michael ignored her and took the opportunity to ram his chair, hard, into the small opening the confused operator had left open and wheel himself into the crowded boarding area.

"Come on, guys, quick! Move!"

Kevin, Andy, Kelly and Dwight followed his call to action while the rest stood in a cluster outside the gate. Michael raised his eyebrows. "Come _on_!" he stressed, and slowly Phyllis, Meredith and Creed wedged their way in.

"Sir, we really can't-"

"Pooh," Judy said as loudly as she dared, but the word had lost its power. She cursed under her breath and climbed over the gate, prompting a few nasty comments from those waiting in line. "I _work _here!" she informed them testily, jabbing a finger at her nametag.

"Then get that jerk outta there!" a man called out in a thick Boston accent.

"I'm _trying_," Judy replied, forcing a smile that more closely resembled a sneer.

"Yeah, shut up, Marky!" the woman next to the heckler reprimanded him. "You are so stupid!"

"Kevin, Andy, lift me in," Michael instructed sharply.

"Sir, we can't have you crowding the boarding area like this," the operator attempted to dissuade them, but Kevin and Andy already had an ungainly grip on Michael.

"Okay, okay, a little higher, over the edge—_OW_! _Dammit_, Kevin! I said _higher_!" Michael roared.

"I'm trying!" Kevin grunted.

"Get in here and _help_," Michael ordered those that had remained outside the gate. Jim just shook his head, jimming as if in pain.

"We will escort you _all _out of here," the operator informed them loudly, which elicited a cheer from those in line.

"Michael," Judy tried again, angrily.

"Michael?" Phyllis sounded scared.

"_Michael_?"

The third repetition came from a new, yet not unfamiliar voice, and for whatever reason it caught Michael's attention. He looked over as he hung precariously in Kevin and Andy's arms. His jaw dropped when he spotted its source.

"…_Holly_?"

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **Oh yes, I did just cliffhanger you. Bam.

I had to go back and fix a little something last chapter in Dwight's first talking head...I screwed up the challenges, so you may want to go read that right quick. Like I said, I'm an idiot. Anyway, two bonus bits for this chapter: Jim's proposal list is updated through this chapter, and there's an _awesome _new scene on HalloweenJack138's bulletin board. I moved the image to a new link so it's displayed at its intended size; if you couldn't read it last time, check back. There's a split in the image midway down; I had to do that to upload such a huge, complex file. Enjoy, and leave a note in your review if you dig them as much as I do!

You all had some interesting proposal ideas. I'm planning on compiling them all, but I'm a little graphicked out at this point. Plus I think I'm getting a summer cold from Mr. Beets. Suckitude.

Yep, I think this chapter is my favorite. It contains two scenes I've been _dying _to get to. But who cares what _I_ think?

_Not reviewin's e-vil,  
Not reviewin's e-vil,  
If you don't review then  
Who on earth will?  
If you liked this one  
Then come on now and spill...  
Not reviewin'? I'm booin'  
E-vil..._


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: I make no money off this. Believe you me.**

Hi all. A short chapter, but hopefully you enjoy.

* * *

Holly: (_in front of the Pinocchio Village Haus restaurant_) Well, I bought a ticket down spur-of-the-moment last night and flew in this morning. With the office empty I caught up on all my paperwork the day after everyone left, and I just figured…I needed a break. Plus as the "new girl" I thought it might be good for me to come for at least one day. You know…build camaraderie and all. (_She looks down, a hint of a smile on her lips. She lifts her head again as she listens to a question from off-camera._) Oh, I didn't see much of what happened. I was just heading for the middle of the park and heard a lot of yelling. Why, what was going on?

* * *

"You might want to pick up the pace a little," Michael said, glancing nervously over his shoulder as Holly pushed him around Fantasyland. Judy was still involved in a serious-looking discussion with the ride operator Michael had offended and two other cast members that had appeared after catching wind of the scuffle.

"I think Judy's settling everything."

Michael added a healthy dose of skepticism to his nervous look. "Yeah, well, she's not that great at…anything, really."

"She seems nice enough."

"Well, she…" He took a moment to think, no doubt weighing Holly's opinion while he glanced at the camera. "Yeah, she's okay," he finally agreed, a bit uneasily.

There was a pause. "Do you mind if I ask why you're…in this?" Holly asked, tapping the handlebars of the wheelchair.

"Oh, it's…it's just that…I have a condition," he answered vaguely.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. It only acts up in…heat. It's sporastic."

Holly frowned slightly but said nothing more. They were silent as she pushed him further and further from the scene of the incident. Once they were a fair distance away Michael found his grin again. "I can't believe you're here," he said, tipping his head back to look at Holly. She was now the one to look a bit tentative. "I mean, I'm…glad you came," he added.

Holly finally grinned. "Thanks."

* * *

Andy was finishing paying for the oversized Goofy hat, complete with ears, at Sir Mickey's when Dwight found him. "It's time for our next challenge," he informed his fellow coworker. Andy pulled the hat from its bag and plunked it on his head.

"Sure thing," he said, grinning and cocking his head. "What am I beating you at now?"

Dwight snuck the briefest of sneaky glances at the camera before gazing stoically at Andy again. "A spin-off. On the tea cups." Despite the serious look, anyone in the know would have no trouble noticing the gleeful lilt to his voice.

Andy blanched noticeably. "Umm…really?"

"Yes."

Andy's eyebrows knit together. "_Really _really?"

"Yes," Dwight repeated. "Is there a problem with _Michael's _choice?"

"No, I just…" Andy sighed. "Nope, that'll work," he tried again, shakily.

Dwight arched an eyebrow. "Good." With that he marched out of the shop, leaving Andy to follow after him slowly. On the way to the ride, Dwight passed Jim, who looked much improved in mood. Dwight grabbed his arm.

"Jim, will you count Andy's and my spins on the tea cups?"

"Sure," Jim agreed, nodding. Once Dwight and Andy were no more than twenty feet away, though, Jim flashed a smirk at the camera and wandered off in the opposite direction.

As they neared the line Andy stopped and looked around. Dwight turned and glared at him. "What's the hold up?" he inquired.

"Just looking for Ang," Andy replied as he scanned the crowd. Dwight sneered at him.

"Need to ask permission from the little woman?" he mocked. Andy quickly shook his head and started for the end of the line.

The queue was surprisingly short for Mad Tea Party, which seemed to do nothing to help Andy soothe his nerves. He breathed deeply in line, arching his back to allow in more oxygen and perhaps Disney magic as well. Dwight, on the other hand, stood tall and proud, looking at the camera every few moments. When it was their turn to ride, Dwight stepped up onto the platform easily, but Andy gripped the handrail tightly and attempted to steel what little resolve he might have possessed.

"Are you riding, sir?" the cast member at the entrance asked, looking concerned. Andy squeezed his eyes shut for a second or two, slapped himself on the face quite hard, then finally nodded.

"Let's do this like Brutus," he muttered as he walked past the operator, who now looked quite worried.

The view shifted to show that, unbeknownst to the two competitors, Angela had snuck up to the far railing to watch. She bit her lip as they took their seats - Andy in an open pink cup; Dwight in a seafoam green one. Dwight gave Andy a smug grin from across the dais – Andy attempted to return it, but it packed much less punch. Just before the ride started he pulled his hat off his head and shoved it back in the bag.

The traditional welcome and warning came over the speakers, then the platform began to rotate. "Count starts now!" Dwight called, furiously spinning the small wheel in front of him to start his tea cup turning. Andy followed suit, much more delicately.

"One! Two! Three!" Dwight yelled as he spun, assumingly for the benefit of (the not-present) Jim.

Andy made it through a few rotations, but his pallor suddenly took on a greenish hue. He pushed through another half turn but then released the wheel as his cheeks puffed out, and his eyes scanned the cup desperately. His face fell as much as it could as he realized his shopping bag was his only available receptacle. Holding the bag wide open and not bothering – or remembering –to remove the hat, he emptied his stomach into it.

Dwight threw his arms in the air victoriously as Andy continued to hurl.

When the camera chanced panning her way, it showed Angela allowing herself the tiniest smile as well.

When the ride stopped Dwight leapt from his cup. Andy climbed out much more daintily. Angela had moved to meet them at the exit. "Sixty-seven rotations!" Dwight announced. "Was that your final count as well, Jim?" He looked around. "Jim?" he called out.

Andy handed the sloshing bag to Dwight, who held it high like a trophy. "Where's the bathroom?" he moaned, looking at Angela. She put her arm around him.

"I'll help you," she said.

"After that I need a new hat," Andy added as they walked away. As Angela left with her fiancé, she couldn't help but peek over his shoulder at Dwight, that almost-smile lighting on her face again.

* * *

Once Andy had gotten himself together and she had wrapped up the discussion in which she had been involved, Judy gathered the group on the walkway into Liberty Square. "This area has one attraction everyone loves – the Haunted Mansion – and one that everyone loves to make fun of – the Hall of Presidents. I personally love both of them, so we'll spend about an hour here for those of you that want to experience both. There's also the Liberty Square Riverboat, which is a nice way to relax and take a tour around Tom Sawyer's Island. If you find yourself with some free time, there are a few really neat shops too. So, I'll let you all wander and I'll see you in an hour?" She smiled, but once the majority of the group had dispersed the smile immediately evaporated.

"Need a smoke?" Pam joked. Judy sighed deeply.

"I need a whole pack. _And _a drink."

* * *

Judy: (_in yet another smoking area; she looks very tired and enjoys a long drag before speaking_) Getting Michael out of that one…not a high point of the week. Or of my career. Or my life. (_She takes another drag, then looks as if a realization dawns on her._) Do you think Meredith has any-- (_She stops and shakes her head suddenly._) Forget I asked that. And for God's sakes, edit that out too.

* * *

At the Haunted Mansion, Andy moved to get in line without Angela, but she followed him into the queue. He gave her a confused look. "You're riding, too?" he asked. Angela nodded, surprisingly with a smile on her face.

"Yes." A pause. "Why?"

"You hate _anything_ to do with the occult. You won't even watch _Scooby Doo _with me because they always assume it's a ghost causing trouble first."

Angela shrugged. "I know. But this is just an innocent ride," she answered airily.

"Isn't _Scooby Doo _just an innocent cartoon?" he attempted to understand.

"No. It also promotes drug use, living out of a van in sin and gluttony," she stated matter-of-factly.

Andy appeared to have no idea what to do with this response. After a silence he put on a half-grin. "You're awfully chipper all of a sudden."

Angela fiddled with her ponytail. "Just glad you're all right."

* * *

The cameraman was in a "Doom Buggie" between one shared by Holly and Michael and one occupied solely by Creed. As the buggies glided out of the séance scene with Madame Leota, they turned to face a giant mirror, showing the riders that they had picked up a hitchhiker along the way. On his left, Holly started and grabbed Michael's hand. Michael zeroed in on it immediately.

"Wasn't expecting that," Holly explained, laughing faintly. Michael gave the camera, by way of the mirror, a wide-eyed stare.

On the cameraman's right, Creed stared into the mirror in abject terror.

* * *

Creed: (_at the ride's exit; still looking frightened_) I took the _wrong _pill before I got on that, brother.

* * *

Dwight, Oscar and Stanley exited the theater together after watching a "performance" at the Hall of Presidents. "You look happy, Stanley," Oscar pointed out, glancing at his coworker in amusement.

Stanley nodded serenely. "I liked that," he said. Dwight stared at him, shocked.

"Really?"

Again Stanley nodded. "It was interesting and I got to sit in the air conditioning for twenty minutes."

"You _didn't_ like it, Dwight?" Oscar asked. Dwight snorted.

"A hero like Theodore Roosevelt shoved in a back corner while that ne'er-do-well Rutherford B. Hayes gets a cushy seat front and center?" he scoffed. "That man has the blood of the Amish on his hands."

Oscar couldn't look more baffled if he tried. "How so?"

Dwight just shook his head and walked away. "Do your homework, _Oscar_," he barked.

* * *

Dwight: (_near a store called The Yankee Trader; shaking his head again_) No, I'm not explaining it to _you_, either. Not knowing your history should be considered treason. (_He purses his lips as if to say, "So __there__.")_

* * *

After riding the Haunted Mansion, Jim and Pam managed to get aboard the Liberty Belle Riverboat just as it was about to leave port. They stood together along the railing as the boat paddled around Tom Sawyer's Island. Jim smiled down at her.

"Definitely much more pleasant than last time we hit the high seas together," he observed. Pam nodded.

"In more ways than one."

In unison they seemed to realize the far-reaching implications of that seemingly innocuous statement and wore twin expressions of discomfort during the pause that followed. After a long moment Pam put on a smile again. "Are you feeling better?"

"Was I feeling bad?" Jim asked, looking confused.

"I just thought earlier, when you didn't want to ride it's a small world…" she began, looking out at the water.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am. Just needed a minute. Plus that song…it's like a virus you can't shake."

"You're telling me – I rode it _twice_." They exchanged a grin, but just as harmony was reestablished, it seemed that Jim's earlier rhetorical question to himself came back to haunt him: in a moment that _had _to be scripted, a happy couple in the all-too-familiar bride and groom ears joined them at the railing.

Had Jim known the camera was filming him from around the corner, he would have given it the look he now wore and was giving the water. Pam managed to keep a tenuous hold on her smile and shared it on the couple.

"Congratulations," Pam offered them.

"Thanks!" they accepted smilingly.

"We just got married," the woman added, casting a loving glance at her new husband.

"That's great," Pam said kindly.

And subconsciously or not, she took a half step away from Jim.

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **A new scene on HalloweenJack138's board - so awesome, and may I say as her "creator," he writes Judy _remarkably _well.

Sorry it took a week for new material (other than _Why I'd Make An Awesome Bridesmaid_); other work beckoned, although not as loudly as it should have.

This chapter's song brought to you by ktface3...thank GOD. And thanks, Queen Pimp.

_I look once more  
For some more reviews from you -  
In my inbox,  
Where the emails all will be,  
I plead once more  
For the notes you all might send  
I'd love some more reviews from you  
For me -  
Coming for me…_

(Honestly you don't even have to review. Just say hi. Whatever. Cheer me up. I've had a severely pooptastic day and Mr. Beets is sick. All around bummer. Okay, mope-fest over.)


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Still woefully un-owning.**

Here's the scoop, kids. No more author's notes at the end of this, just the little tune. In fact, aside from the disclaimer, this is my last one until the wrap-up (more on that in a minute). This is it. As you _might _have noticed, I'm trying to ratchet up the tension bit by bit, and I think a lot of babbling from me kills that a little, at this point.

So here's what you need to know: there is ONE chapter after this, and then the wrap-up/epilogue. That's it. The final chapter will be up Friday - yes, I'm giving you a definitive date. The epilogue? No later than Monday. There will be bonus bits for this chapter and the next; after you read go check them out.

This one's lengthy; I'm pretty sure that's all right with you. Enjoy, and please do share your thoughts afterward...(PS - this story contains a reference to The Date. Just a head's up.)

* * *

Liberty Square had been toured fully and so next on the group's list was Frontierland, a land in which (Judy had informed them), Walt Disney had hoped that "the colorful drama of frontier America in the exciting days of the covered wagon and the stage coach, the advent of the railroad and the romantic riverboat" would live again. The Dunder Mifflin employees and their guide were having a quick bite in Pecos Bill's Tall Tale Café to tide them over until their dinner a few hours later.

"What do you do at Dunder Mifflin?" Judy asked Holly as she munched on a french fry.

"I'm the new HR representative," Holly answered, smiling. Judy nodded.

"Oh, you must have replaced…is it Toby?"

Now Holly nodded, looking impressed. "Yes. You heard about Toby?"

Judy eyed Michael briefly, who shared a look with her that was frighteningly similar to the one he had given Toby during his exit interview two weeks earlier. Judy averted her gaze to her fries. "Yeah, he's been mentioned," was all she said in response.

"As a downer?" Holly guessed, raising an eyebrow.

"Amongst other things," Judy said, studying Holly in a way that made it clear that she was concerned that she and Michael had similar opinions about this mysterious Toby.

Michael's expression as he watched Holly, though, was full of adoration. Holly noticed and grinned. Kevin, who had not been able to get a seat near Holly, watched the silent exchange with narrowed eyes.

Judy had watched it too, and in turn appeared even more disturbed. She was broken out of the moment by a question from Phyllis.

"So Judy, what are we doing first here?"

"Oh right…well, I thought we could do Country Bear Jamboree after we finish here. It's a cute show, not to mention the closest attraction."

Most at the table nodded, except Jim. His eyes widened as he chewed a bite of his nachos. Pam glanced over at him, took in his expression and rolled her eyes.

"You _really _won't go see it?" she asked quietly. Jim shook his head slowly.

"No."

"Come on," she pressed. "It couldn't have been _that_ bad."

He pointed at her. "That is where you are wrong. It _was _'that bad,' and much, much worse."

Pam smirked at him. "You're such a dork," she said. Jim shrugged, sneaking a look at the camera.

"I'm willing to live with that."

* * *

Jim: (_a fair distance from the entrance to the Country Bear Jamboree, his coworkers assembled behind him; his head is down at first, but when he raises it he looks more serious than usual_) On my last trip here, when I was ten, my family decided to see this show. It started off fine, but midway through the first number there was some sort of massive glitch, or something, and the bears totally malfunctioned. What made it worse was all the lights cut out minus the stage's footlights, and the soundtrack started to skip. So you've got these robotic bears spasming and jerking around, lit from below like a bad horror movie, and over and over I heard "One sure the Bear Band's got is--," "One sure the Bear Band's got is--,"…and after two straight minutes, I was convinced the one sure thing they had was my soul. (_He flashes a jim._) So _no_, I will not be checking out the Country Bear Jamboree. Ever, _ever _again.

* * *

The rest of the group headed in for the show, Jim once again swearing it off (and receiving another rather harsh roll of the eyes from his girlfriend). He looked around and seemed surprised when he noticed Dwight had also opted to avoid the attraction. After a look camera-ward, he strolled over to his deskmate, who was studying a display of cap guns at a souvenir kiosk. "Hey Dwight."

Dwight nodded. "Jim."

"With your love of bears, I'm kinda shocked you're not watching the show."

Dwight frowned. "Jim, be reasonable. Anyone who shuts himself in a dark room with a bunch of robot bears is just begging for trouble, especially when the bears are holding blunt objects like banjos and washboards that could clearly be used as weapons," he admonished Jim.

It was silent for a long moment as Jim, no doubt uncomfortably, digested the fact that he and Dwight shared the exact same opinion of the attraction. Finally he shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "I was thinking of riding Big Thunder Mountain Railroad while everyone else was in there," he said, not looking at Dwight. "You wanna go with me?"

Dwight considered the offer, then nodded again. "Yes," he accepted.

Jim nodded too, avoiding any eye or lens contact. "Okay."

They started off down the walkway toward the giant, dun-colored mountain looming on their right, once again in silence. "So…how do you like the trip?" Jim asked awkwardly.

"It's been all right," Dwight answered evenly.

"Yeah. I'm having fun too," Jim offered.

Another long pause.

"How are you doing with…the whole Angela…thing?" Jim asked after a moment. Dwight's lips set in a hard line.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he fired back. Jim finally managed to look at him.

"C'mon. I know Toby's party couldn't have been easy on you."

"Toby was far from efficient. I was happy to see him go. I can only hope Holly will be more effective in dealing with—"

"Dwight," Jim interrupted him quietly, giving the bespectacled man an exasperated look. Dwight met his gaze and finally shrugged.

"It wasn't a great night."

"Yeah. I hear you."

Dwight smiled lightly. "But, I have a feeling that Andrew Bernard may get his comeuppance soon," he revealed. Jim wore a surprised smirk at that announcement.

"Really? Why's that?" Dwight didn't reply, but his smile tripled in size. Jim watched him. "Does this have something to do with these challenges you guys keep doing?"

"Maybe." A pause. "Yes." Another pause. "Maybe."

Jim nodded slowly. "You're competing for Angela?"

"Is that wrong?" Dwight asked in a tone that implied he could care less what the answer was.

Jim looked ready to reply, then bit that back. After a beat he shrugged, simply jimming at the camera.

"What do you find to be the best way to guarantee a victory?" Dwight asked.

Jim genuinely thought about it. "Go with your strengths," he finally replied. Dwight nodded as he pondered that.

"Good plan," he mused. "Thank you, Jim."

There was yet another stretch of silence. Jim broke it with a simple, "You're welcome, Dwight."

* * *

Once Judy's group had checked out the Country Bear Jamboree, some wandered off to ride Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. Phyllis took a seat on a bench in the shade and a moment later Meredith sat next to her.

"You okay?" she asked, taking in Phyllis's rather downcast expression. Phyllis nodded, trying to smile.

"Yeah. I'm just ready to head home tomorrow. I really miss Bob Vance," she told the redhead. Meredith nodded, then handed Phyllis her cup. Phyllis looked at her in confusion.

"Take a sip. You'll feel better," Meredith assured her. Phyllis took a hesitant pull at the straw and her eyes widened as the liquid reached her lips.

"Where did—" she began, but Meredith shook her head and grinned.

"Sshh."

Phyllis's smile widened and, not one to argue, she took another, longer sip.

* * *

Midway to the runaway railroad, the small group passed an older woman struggling to keep up with the rest of her family. From his place bringing up the rear, Michael looked back at Holly. "Can you stop for just a second?" he asked. She complied. Michael stood up out of his wheelchair and took the handlebars, pushing it back to the woman.

"Here you go," he said kindly. She looked up at him, her brows raised.

"You don't need it?"

"Nah. I'm good," he assured her as he patted her shoulder. He held the chair still for her as she took a seat, then pushed her toward her family. As he chatted with them, the shot swung back to Holly, who watched the scene with an amazed smile. After a moment Michael returned to her. He sized up her smile with a confused grin on his face.

"What?" he asked, chuckling.

"That was really nice of you," Holly admired. "Won't you lose a deposit, though?"

Michael shrugged. "It's okay. My butt was getting really sweaty."

* * *

Judy and Pam were walking toward Splash Mountain together when Pam looked down at Judy's blue leather bracelet, the word **favorite **tooled into it. "Have you worn that before?" she asked the guide, who shook her head.

"No. I put it on this morning because it…well, matched." She gestured to her blue polo embroidered with a tiny Donald Duck.

"It's cute," Pam said, smiling.

"Thanks. My husband had it made for me here, at the Canada pavilion at Epcot."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. They make them here, too, over at the Frontierland Trading Post."

Pam looked off in the direction in which Judy had two-finger pointed briefly. "Cool."

Just then Jim and Dwight wandered up, both looking a bit windblown. "Hey," Jim greeted the women, smiling at Pam. "How were the bears?"

"Very well behaved," she answered, giving him a grin as well.

"Right," Dwight muttered.

"I can't believe that happened to you," Judy said, laughing as she looked at Jim.

"Believe it," he assured her.

"Were you mauled?" Dwight asked knowingly. Jim considered that.

"More or less."

Dwight grinned at the camera smugly. "Knew it."

"Can you guys wait for me? I need to use the restroom really quick," Pam said. Judy nodded.

"Sure. The nearest one is back around the corner."

"Thanks," Pam called over her shoulder, then hurried off. Dwight stepped closer to Judy, putting his hands on his hips.

"I have a question for you," he informed, sounding doubtful that she would know how to handle such an honor.

"All right."

"I need to know if there are any attractions here that involve extensive knowledge of science fiction trivia," he demanded. Judy chewed her lip while Jim shared a classic jim with the camera.

"Not that I know of, no," Judy replied.

"How about the martial arts?" Dwight tried again. Judy shook her head. "_Eff_," Dwight whispered, tapping his foot impatiently. Jim rocked on his heels as he tried to hide his smile. "How about…paintball?"

"Sorry," Judy said, looking as if she genuinely was, then perked up. "Well, wait, there _is _the Frontierland Shootin' Arcade. It's not paintball, but you are…shooting. Does that help with…" But she trailed off, not seeming to know with what the answers to any of those could possibly help.

The gears in Dwight's mind looked to be grinding so hard that it was surprising they weren't audible. "Yes," he answered decisively, a grin tackling his face. "Yes it does."

* * *

Creed stepped off the raft that had brought him back from Tom Sawyer's Island and onto the roughly-hewn pier. A redheaded cast member gave him a friendly smile. "How was your trip?" she asked him. Creed grinned and nodded.

"Great. Tell me, dollface, what's the asking price for that property?" he questioned her.

Her smile froze. "Um…I don't…it's," she stammered. Creed winked and fished in his pocket.

"Here's my card. Get with your people, talk it over, and call me with a figure," he instructed, pressing a weathered business card into her hand and squeezing her shoulder before ambling away.

The cast member looked into the camera before dropping her eyes to the card in her hand.

* * *

Creed: (_in front of an old wooden sign reading __**Fort Langhorn**__; smiling_) Usually you get a free VCR or something after that kind of pitch, which is always good for a couple bucks on the street, but it was still nice. Not ruling it out.

* * *

The cameraman shot Pam from across the wide walkway. She stood waiting at the counter that sold leather bracelets exactly like the one Judy had been wearing. She glanced around her, arms folded, then returned her attention to the clerk as he came back from the tooling station further down the counter. Slowly the cameraman snuck closer as the clerk smiled and held out a black bracelet for her approval.

"Did I get this right?" her microphone picked up from him.

The cameraman was close enough to employ a zoom-in that revealed what had been etched into the leather.

**Mr. Jim Halpert**

Pam grinned and nodded. "It's perfect," she told him. With a nod the clerk wrapped it in tissue paper and placed it in a bag. Absentmindedly Pam tucked her head against her shoulder, and just then spotted the camera not ten feet away. Her eyes went wide in fear, but after a moment a smile tugged at her lips. When the clerk handed her the bag she thanked him and turned to the camera again.

"It's got a nice ring to it, right?" she asked. Her smile spread as she shoved the small bag into her pocket and jogged back toward Splash Mountain.

* * *

Stanley: (_at the exit to Splash Mountain; looking glum_) I took a chance on this one. Wish I hadn't. Didn't know it was based on _Song of the South. _Br'er Rabbit was born in the briar patch, and that's where he belongs. (_He raises an eyebrow_.)

(_Just then Michael wanders into the shot behind Stanley. Stanley turns at the sound of him singing "Everyone Has A Laughing Place." He stops upon spying Stanley._)

Michael: (_happily_) Hey Stankley! Catchy, huh? (_He wanders back out, whistling the same tune._)

Stanley: (_turning back to the camera._) Hmph.

* * *

"Andrew Bernard. Follow me."

Andy jumped and reflexively swatted at his ear. He spun and spotted Dwight leaning alarmingly close. Andy frowned. "I really wish you wouldn't get so close to me, weirdo," he stated. Dwight just raised an eyebrow.

"Do you find it intimidating?"

"No, I find it super creepy, is what I find it," Andy corrected.

"Right."

"I _am _right. Where are we going?"

Dwight grinned. "Like I said, follow me," he repeated, then marched off. Andy muttered unintelligibly and followed, but his expression made it apparent that if he had spoken louder it would have been bleeped out anyway. Angela, who had been standing with Andy, joined him on the journey into the unknown. She took in his angry look.

"What's wrong?"

"This whole thing is so off…Michael's _never _around. Dwight gets to know about _everything_ before I do, and that totally gives him the edge in all this. Jim has _no_ idea what I'm talking about when I ask him anything. It's starting to really piss me off," he fumed.

Angela flinched at such harsh language but said nothing. She studied the pavement instead, looking part excited and part guilty.

As the trio passed the employees Judy had already wrangled to get them to their 5:30 reservations at Cinderella's Royal Table, Jim watched the procession with interest.

"What's going on?" he asked. Andy flung a hand in Jim's direction.

"See? See what I mean? He's clueless!" he yelled, punching his hand into his fist. "It's not right!"

"Clueless about what? I was just wondering if it was challenge time," Jim said smoothly. Andy's face lost some of its fire. Angela looked shocked.

"Yeah," Andy answered Jim in a more reasonable tone. Jim nodded.

"Cool. Let's go." He looked at Pam. "You in?"

"So in," she answered.

Once Jim and Pam left the group, everyone else apparently had to follow, and despite a weak objection, Judy ended up tagging along too. As they walked Angela shot Jim a look so grateful, but only Jim and the camera were watching her closely enough to actually catch it. Jim gave her back a quick nod.

They reached the Frontierland Shootin' Arcade, and Andy grinned mightily. "Oh _yes_, thanks Michael! I _knew _he couldn't leave me hanging forever!" he cried.

Michael, being one of the employees that Judy hadn't managed to herd with the others, was not on hand to accept such thanks. Dwight took it on his behalf and repaid Andy with a look of confused derision.

"What are you talking about?" Dwight asked.

"I told Michael about all the hunting I do with my dad on the Bayliner, with my sniper rifle…oh man, Schrute! You are going _down_!" Andy taunted. Dwight looked skeptical but remained quiet.

At the counter, they decided to buy one hundred two-cent shots each. Andy was the first to take aim at the old graveyard scene riddled with targets. All was deathly quiet as he fired over and over, surprisingly proficient. Oscar eyed Jim.

"Is it a little unnerving that he's so good with a firearm?" he whispered. Jim raised his eyebrows.

"A _little_?"

At the end of his session, Andy was greeted with a round of applause. "Seventy-two hits," he announced, strutting off to the side to join Angela and allow Dwight room to shoot. Dwight gave him a long, evil stare, and his smile deflated some. "Can't see how you'll top that," he still managed.

"Like _this_," Dwight told him.

Two minutes later, it was all over.

Dwight didn't get a round of applause, just stunned silence, which he seemed to appreciate even more. He took his turn to strut in a distinctly duck-like fashion over to Andy. "_Wow_, gosh _Andy_, I think _ninety-six _targets hit beats seventy-two any day," Dwight said, grinning as he tossed the air rifle back to the arcade attendant. The young man wasn't prepared for that, and so the sound of the rifle slamming against the counter punctuated Dwight's win.

Andy just stared at him, slack-jawed as the rest.

"Can we head to dinner now?" Judy asked from the back of the crowd.

"Hey, yes, dinner. I'm starving," Michael said with a smile, appearing out of nowhere with Holly and Kevin in tow. He searched the faces of his employees. "What'd I miss? Something good?"

Andy's expression turned enraged. "Double-u tee _eff_?" he exploded, tromping off toward the castle.

* * *

Michael: (_near the restroom at Cinderella's Royal Table; pleased_) Pam made a good call choosing this place. I mean, we're in a castle! And I…well, I'm like the king of Dunder Mifflin, with all my loyal subjects around me. (_He pauses as he listens to a question, then smiles indulgently._) Who's my queen? (_Michael chuckles._) I guess I have two options. Again. (_He starts to look worried._) I'll have to break a heart.

* * *

With the dinner package at Cinderella's Royal Table, guests got a chance to have a photo taken around a throne. As the general chaos erupted, as it always did when the branch had to take a picture together, Phyllis eyed Angela. "You look awful happy," she observed quietly. Angela's smile turned to a scowl.

"So?"

Phyllis shrugged. "Just seems…odd."

Behind Dwight and Andy, who were arguing over which of them would be at Michael's side in the photo, Jim looked down at Pam, poking at the blue corner of shopping bag that stuck out of her pocket. "What's this?" he asked. She smiled elusively.

"Nothing."

He jimmed suspiciously. "Nothing, huh? Is it a present for me?"

"Maybe." Pam's smile grew.

"What is it?"

"Patience is a virtue," she said, looking all too happy to use his words against him.

Finally they were able to get their picture taken and their host led them into the dining hall. Chandeliers lit the huge room, royal banners hung from a ceiling accented with dark beams and stained glass windows allowed diners an amazing view of the park. The group was shown their table, positioned right next to one such window. Kevin, having hustled more than usual, managed to snag the only remaining seat next to Holly. He smiled at Michael glibly, but Michael only grimaced as he took a seat across from her instead.

The waiter came for their drink orders, and Michael sniggered the entire time the man was at the table. When he left Holly glanced over at Michael, despite the fact that Kevin had been midway through a story about losing three hundred dollars on a bet involving Tracy McGrady winning a championship ring. "What's so funny?" she asked, grinning too.

"Our waiter's wearing pantaloons," he pointed out, pressing a hand to his mouth to stop the chuckles. As Holly looked at the waiter and laughed too, Kevin's eyes fell to the napkin on his lap. Meredith watched him closely.

"God, this place is so _gorgeous_," Kelly was gushing. "It's so romantic I can't stand it. Can you imagine having a _reception _in here? So amazing!" She waved her hands. "The romance is, like, too much to bear…can't you guys just feel it?" she pressed, letting her eyes rest on Darryl a little longer than he could bear. "I just want something love-y to happen, like, _right_ _now_!"

With that request she doled out a healthy portion of awkwardness to everyone at the table, and more pairs of eyes suddenly found their napkins fascinating.

* * *

After an amazing dinner the group headed out of the castle and Judy started leading them off to Adventureland, the final land left to tour. "What's there?" Kelly asked. Judy paused.

"Oh wow…a lot of the classics: the Jungle Cruise, the Enchanted Tiki Room, the Swiss Family Treehouse, Pirates of the Caribbean--"

"Omigod, like the _movie_?" Kelly squealed. Judy laughed.

"Yes, exactly – actually the ride came first. Walt Disney designed it in—"

"Please, _please_ tell me that Johnny Depp is on it! Omigod, I'll _die_ if he isn't!"

"Don't die, he is. Captain Jack Sparrow was added--"

Kelly's scream cut off the rest of Judy's factoid, and grabbing Darryl's arm she bounded off. Judy smirked at Stanley.

"Is it a good thing that she didn't let me say I met him at the unveiling ceremony?"

Stanley nodded. "Good for all of us," he assured their guide as they followed Kelly. Jim was chatting with Oscar, not noticing that Pam had stopped just outside the entrance arch to the castle. The shot zoomed in on her as she bit her lip, clenched her hands in fists tightly and slowly went down on one knee. She was bracing herself as Jim looked back.

"Hey Beesly!" he called grinning. "C'mon!" She looked up at him with round eyes as he drew a few steps closer, but before she could answer he put his hands on his hips. "You're keeping me from Johnny," he joked. Pam pursed her lips and Jim, misunderstanding the gesture, looked sheepish. "Okay, you got me…it's the treehouse I'm eyeing. I love treehouses." He smiled at her winningly, but she missed it as she delicately fingered her already tied shoelaces. "Ready?" he asked.

She rose as if in pain and smoothed back some stray curls into her ponytail. "Yeah," she sighed. "I'm done."

* * *

As Andy and Angela looked up at the sign that informed them the Enchanted Tiki Room was **Under New Management**, Andy shook his head. "I think I'll take a pass on this. All those birds singing? Weirds me out," Andy told his fiancé.

"Really?" Angela asked, sounding disappointed. Dwight passed them on his way to the entrance, looking at them briefly but saying nothing. "Would you mind if I watched the show? You know how much I love watching my bird feeder for visitors."

"Of course not, babe. I'm gonna go get my pirate on," he told her, kissing her cheek. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and made her way into the Polynesian theater.

* * *

Andy: (_in front of the high-flying Magic Carpets of Aladdin; looking wise and nodding_) It's all about compromise. I hate birds, she hates…what'd she call them? "Grimy, immoral ruffians of the sea?" (_He shrugs, grinning._) Something like that. But that's why we work. Totally different and yet accepting. Perfect.

* * *

Darryl: (_at the exit to Pirates of the Caribbean; before he can speak Kelly runs out behind him and grins._)

Kelly: One more time, honey! He's _so_ cute! (_She blows him a kiss and disappears_.)

Darryl: (_disturbed_) That's her third time. I got on her about that Jasmine thing, but I'll admit it…I'm gettin' jealous of a damn robot. I thought bein' turned on indirectly by Ryan was bad. (_His expression screams "How did I get to this point?"_)

* * *

The feathered stars of the Enchanted Tiki Room were returning to their perches in the rafters and the house lights were coming up, but two guests hadn't left their seats on a back bench. Dwight and Angela were intertwined, Angela with her eyes squeezed shut as Dwight nuzzled her neck.

"I promise I'll win the last challenge, Monkey," he murmured. She grinned and Dwight raised his head for a kiss.

A sharp "ahem" from the cast member at the door caught their attention.

Angela's eyes flew open and she looked around frantically. When she spied the camera in the far corner of the room tears sprang to her eyes and she flew out of her seat and out of the room, running faster than she had for any charity.

Dwight looked lost. After a staredown with the camera he cleared his throat, straightened his t-shirt and walked out, head held high.

* * *

Dusk was settling in, and the shot of Jim and Pam strolling toward the entrance to the Swiss Family Treehouse was partially obscured by a few branches that were no doubt providing cover for the cameraman. Jim looked happy; Pam seemed lost in her own mind. "I loved this as a kid," he said, taking Pam's hand. "My brother and I would race to the top over and over." Pam just smiled faintly. Jim squeezed her hand. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she answered without much conviction. Jim chose to ignore her tone and looked up into the enormous tree.

"Not as easy to get into as our treehouse back home," he mused. Pam looked up too.

"It _is _high."

Jim tugged at her hand. "Let's see if it's as cool," he suggested, the twinkle in his eyes evident even at a distance. Finally Pam wore a real smile.

"Okay."

As Jim mounted the first few steps, a blond blur tore into the shot, giving Jim an impressively hard shove as it passed.

"Move!" ordered the familiar voice, sounding teary.

Jim grabbed the railing as he fell, but wasn't able to keep from spinning, toppling down the steps and landing at Pam's feet. She quickly went to her knees as he groaned.

"Oh my God. Are you okay?"

Jim's face was contorted in pain. "Twisted my ankle," he moaned. Pam looked up the steps.

"It was Angela. That was so…" She trailed off as she ran a hand through his hair.

"Not in anyway surprising?" he finished in a growly whisper.

"What?"

Jim sighed. "Nothing." He continued rubbing his ankle in silence. Without looking at Pam, he said after a long beat, "I think I need to go back to the room."

She pulled her hand away from him as if she'd been burned. "What?" she repeated, this time more sharply.

"This really hurts. I'll just go lay down and put some ice on it. You stay here – I know you want to see the parade and fireworks," he said quietly.

A close-up of Pam revealed her jaw clenching. "Are you _kidding _me?" Her voice quaking. Jim sighed in answer. Pam got to her feet in an instant. "What the _hell_, Jim? What did I do?" she pleaded.

He finally raised his head. "What do you mean?"

"After _weeks_? You're gonna 'kick my ass?' It's getting cruel, you know? Have you thought of that? I'm so sick of…" She furiously shook her head. Her right hand stole into her pocket and squeezed the bag while the other swiped across her cheek. She turned away from him.

"Pam…"

Pam put up a hand. "Go lay down. Rest your ankle. I'll stay _here_," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him before marching away.

Jim remained on the step, his eyes following her before he sunk his head into his hands. Finally, he got up and hobbled in the direction of the exit.

* * *

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	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: I do **_**not**_** own not only ****The Office ****but **_**anything **_**related in **_**any way **_**to Disney; this includes but isn't limited to their subsidiaries, vacation locales (or anything contained therein), music, movies, and characters.**

You _will_ want to check out the extras on my profile after this. Review song brought to you by ktface3.

* * *

Most of the Scranton branch was boarding the Bomokandi Bertha on the Jungle Cruise. As they climbed aboard they received a friendly hello from a strikingly handsome skipper.

As they left the dock, he turned to them and smiled. "Okay, we're out of here! How's everyone doing today?" he asked in a Kentucky drawl. He received a variety of positive answers in response, but he shook his head. **"**No, I said _everyone_. This guy here didn't answer," he said, pointing at Stanley, who gave him an arched eyebrow. "So how's everyone doing today?" he tried again. This time the responses were more enthusiastic, and Stanley managed a nod. Looking pleased with that the guide continued. **"**Well great! My name is Brian, and I'll be your stripper- uh... skipper today here on the world famous Jungle Cruise," Brian told them, grinning at the chuckles that sounded across the boat. "I could also be your alligator wrestler and swimming instructor if you're not careful. So please, _please_ be careful."

Michael laughed heartily, and even Stanley smiled. "So how many of you all are from out of state?" Brian asked his group. Most hands went up.

"Scra-an! Represent!" Michael said, raising the roof. Dwight immediately did the same.

"Ah. And from out of the country?" Brian continued. A young couple at the back of the boat raised their hands tentatively. "Uh huh. How about out of money? How about out of your minds?" All hands now went up, and laughter rang out again. "Well, this trip won't help. You're going to go through four of the world's mightiest rivers today. You're going to see things that you've never seen. You're going to do things that you've never done. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll... kiss ten and a half minutes goodbye."

Brian shrugged as his guests laughed, Michael hardest of all. Most amazing was Stanley, who had fallen victim to the ride famous for its awful jokes and was now smothering a throaty chuckle behind his hand. As Michael wiped his eyes he noticed this and immediately became subdued.

Brian piloted them first through the Amazon, then took a gentle turn and smiled out at his guests. "We're on the Congo River now in Africa and there's a Pygmy war camp, although I don't know where the Pygmies are. Something could have scared them away," he narrated, gesturing to his right with an open hand. "Could have been a lion or a tiger or an alligator. Maybe even a..." Brian surveyed his audience, his eyes settling on Michael "Crocodile!" he finished loudly, grabbing Michael's shoulder.

Michael jumped, and this time Stanley made no effort to hide his laughter. Michael stared at him with disdain "But no," Brian was saying, "it was this guy right there." Coiled around a branch was a huge animatronic snake. Dwight immediately looked on edge. "We call him Monty. Monty the Python is over 26 feet long. And he's been known to swallow dark-haired fellows in red Dunder Mifflin t-shirts who sit on the left hand side of my boat next to very pretty blond ladies," Brian told them. Holly grinned at the shout out. Michael did not. "But don't worry folks," Brian assured them. "He's friendly. He might even get a _crush_…on _you_." He punctuated the bad joke with a cheesy smile, getting more groans and chuckles. Stanley shook his head as he laughed. Michael eyed him again.

"I can't believe _you're _laughing at that," he hissed.

"Why's that?" Stanley asked evenly.

"Laughing at jokes that involve Africans being eaten by giant snakes? A little racist, dontcha think?" Michael asked snidely, then looked to the camera as if for backup.

"No, I don't," Stanley dismissed good-naturedly.

"Some proud black man _you _are," Michael muttered, crossing his arms and flopping back in his seat.

As he watched Michael pout from across the boat, Oscar grinned.

* * *

Oscar: (_at the exit to the Jungle Cruise; still smiling_) Ah…misguided political-correctness at its finest.

* * *

After the Jungle Cruise, Judy gathered everyone at the gate to Adventureland. First stepping off to the side to take a call, she stood in front of her charges and grinned. "Okay, guys, here's the plan…the SpectroMagic parade – or the Main Street Electrical Parade, for those of you that haven't been here in years – starts in about a half hour. We have reserved seating, but I'd like to head over there now. Before we go, though, I want to mark on your maps where our reserved seating is for the fireworks. You'll have a good hour in between the events, so if you want to wander, shop, ride anything one last time, that's your chance. Okay?" She held up a Sharpie and started down the line. When she reached Pam, she gave her a questioning look. "Where's Jim?" she asked as she circled a spot on Pam's map near the Plaza Restaurant on Main Street.

"He went back to the hotel," Pam answered shortly, her eyes stealing over to Angela a few feet away. Angela's gaze, no doubt limited by eyes that – even in the diminishing light – looked red and swollen, stayed fixed on the ground. Judy looked at Pam.

"Really?" she asked. Pam simply nodded. "Is he okay?"

"He fell and twisted his ankle."

"Oh man," Judy said. She flashed Pam a consoling grin, which Pam responded to with a tight-lipped grimace. Next up was Dwight. After she circled the designated meeting place for him and Andy, she smiled up at Dwight.

"Do you happen to have a notepad on you?"

"Of course," Dwight scoffed.

"Could I have a sheet of paper, please?"

"So unprepared," Dwight muttered, reaching into his back pocket. Judy appeared to hold back a sigh as he ripped off exactly one sheet and gave it to her.

"Perfect. Thank you," she said as she moved on to Phyllis.

Once she was gone, Dwight turned to Andy. "Our final challenge will take place after the parade," he told him in a grave tone.

"Fine." Andy cocked an eyebrow. "Do I get to know what it is _now_, or is that a privilege only _you've _earned?"

Dwight looked thoughtful, then shook his head. "No. You may know. It's a simple foot race, from one end of Main Street to the other."

Andy looked stunned that Dwight had agreed to reveal such important information. "That's it? A foot race?"

"That's it," Dwight confirmed. Andy nodded slowly.

"That seems simple enough. And since we're tied, that will decide it all?"

Dwight grinned. "That will decide _everything_."

* * *

At eight o'clock, the lights along Main Street went out, and Jiminy Cricket's voice rang out from strategically hidden speakers overhead.

"_Welcome to the splendor, the spectacle, the sparkling sensation, where the romance, the comedy and the thrill of Disney fantasies come to electric life. __And now, the Magic Kingdom proudly presents, in a million points of musical light, the magic worlds of Disney... in SpectroMagic!"_

And with that the parade began, with its illuminated floats and its catchy theme song. Holly smiled up at a float featuring an illuminated garden that alternated between being lit in all white and dazzling technicolor. Next to her Michael was bobbing his head along with the music, and when she noticed she laughed.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked him suddenly. He stopped and stared at her incredulously.

"Right here?" he questioned. Holly shrugged.

"Sure."

"Uh…" Michael glanced around, then at the camera, finally giving her a small nod. Both stood and Michael took Holly in his arms hesitantly. She smiled as she put one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. In the best imitation of a waltz either could manage, they twirled in the small space they had available.

"_On this magic night,  
__A million stars will play beside us,  
__Cast a spell of light,  
__Glimmering, shimmering, carouselling -  
__'Round the world tonight,  
__A symphony in SpectroMagic…  
__Pure enchantment lights our way!"_

Growing more confident Michael spun Holly under his hand, both of them laughing.

"Omigod, how _cute_ are they?" Kelly sighed, slapping Pam on the arm and pointing at the dancers. Pam glanced over as Kelly squeezed Darryl's hand, currently on her knee. "Will you dance with me, baby?" she requested.

"No," Darryl answered. Kelly frowned and pushed his hand away. Standing quickly, she glared at her boyfriend.

"_God_, Darryl Philbin, can't you take a hint? Can't you be, like, the _slightest_ bit romantic? _Ever_?" She stormed off toward the Disney Clothiers storefront. Darryl just sighed as he watched her go.

Further down the sidewalk, Judy, Meredith and Kevin were also watching Holly and Michael. "Are they together?" Judy asked them, narrowing her eyes.

"No," Kevin grumbled.

"Huh. They look good together," Judy observed, then turned back to the parade. Kevin kept watching his boss and human resources representative, the irritation seeping away only to be replaced by sadness. Meredith noticed this change in expression with a frown.

From her spot on the curb, Pam was still watching the dancing duo too, but stopped when she saw that the camera was watching _her_. Quickly turning back to the parade, she put her hand to her face to shield it from view.

* * *

After the parade had finished, Dwight and Andy stood in the middle of Main Street, not far from the entrance. Andy was doing some sort of warm-up calisthenics, and Dwight was chugging a bottle of water. After he finished it he smacked his lips and looked to Andy. "Where's your woman?" he asked.

"Down at the finish, by the Mickey and Walt statue," Andy answered distractedly, peering down his shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking…something." Andy looked up again, and as the shirt settled against his chest two unnatural lumps near his nipples kept the cotton from lying smoothly. Dwight eyed the lumps but said nothing further about them. He took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

Andy took the runner's stance. "Ready."

"First one to touch the statue wins."

Dwight mirrored his competitor's pose. After a long, tense moment both men looked over at Phyllis, who stood a few feet away.

"Oh, sorry," she said around a mouthful of Mickey ice cream bar. "_Go_!"

They took off at full speed. After no more than thirty feet, though, they had to slow considerably thanks to excessive foot traffic. Andy cut directly through a couple dealing with their three screaming, exhausted children; Dwight pushed a man in his late fifties into a woman on a cell phone speaking rapid Mandarin Chinese. First Andy was ahead; a moment later Dwight took the lead. It was frantic scrambling all around as the statue came into view, and with it Angela, hands clasped tightly at her chest.

The walkway became more and more congested the closer they got, so more shoving than running was taking place. Finally, the statue was mere feet away.

And Angela, in all her anxiety, couldn't tell that she was standing directly in their way.

Dwight's eyes went wide when he took this obstacle in; Andy's narrowed. While Dwight veered to the left to avoid plowing into his ex-girlfriend, Andy's course did not waver. Without pretense he pushed his fiancé aside, leaving Dwight to catch her as he pressed a hand to Mickey's bronze shoe. Dwight, arms full of a flustered blond whom he quickly righted, could only watch him.

"That's…that's it! I…I did it!" Andy panted. "I won. I _won_!" He wiped at his brow and, for whatever reason, did his best impression of Desmond Howard at the Big House, circa 1991.

Dwight stood with lips firmly pressed shut. As Andy continued to pose and celebrate, Dwight shared a long look with Angela. Her eyes shone brightly. As Andy turned back to sweep her up in an embrace their gaze was broken. She patted Andy's back once, then hung there like a broken doll as he held her. Dwight watched all of this. When Andy put Angela down again, Dwight stuck out his hand.

"Congratulations. You are clearly superior," he murmured.

"Yeah, coulda told you _that _four days ago. But thanks, Dwight. You put up a hell of a fight," Andy accepted as he pumped Dwight's hand happily.

Dwight nodded, let his eyes linger over the castle, then slipped off into the crowd.

* * *

Michael had a basket full of souvenirs at Disney & Co., most of which were toy-related or in some shade of pastel, and was heading for a register as he narrated to the camera. "Just a few things for…people back home. My mom…you know. Other people." He glanced down at the Walt Disney World edition of Mr. Potato Head that topped the pile, then looked back up guiltily.

He and the cameraman both spotted Holly at the same time, standing in line with her mouse ears, picture frame and t-shirt. She waved him over. "I only have a couple things. I'll be quick," she said with a smile.

Looking at his purchases even more guiltily, he strolled over to Holly. She peeked into his basket.

"Wow. Cool Mr. Potato Head."

"Thanks," Michael said softly. Holly's eyes traveled to the other items in his basket.

"Who are all the baby clothes for?" she wondered. Michael fidgeted.

"Ja…anyone. I'm going to donate them. Give them to…baby charity," he said as he eyed the camera again.

Holly did the same, her expression revealing she was doubtful about this explanation, at best.

* * *

A half hour later most of the Scranton branch had already arrived at their reserved seating area. Most were seated at the wrought iron patio sets that filled the space. Only Pam sat on a far step, staring at her hands as she twisted something between her fingers. As soon as Andy entered he jogged right up to Michael, Angela trailing behind him.

"Hey there, Michael. Just wanted to be first to share the big news," he said, his chest puffed out impressively.

"What big news is that?" Michael asked, uninterested.

"I won. It's official. From now on it's you, then Tuna, then yours truly," Andy explained, lowering his hand a bit for each name to show the rankings. Michael gave him an aggravated look.

"Why is it like that? What are you talking about?" he questioned. "Did Pam make a new phone tree or something? What a nerd. We're on vacation, Pamburger! Relax!" he yelled in the general direction of the steps. Pam raised her head, looking bewildered. Andy's face slowly began to color.

"I knew it," he breathed. "I _knew _it!"

"Knew _what_?"

But Andy shook his head as if water was deeply lodged in his aural canal. "He put me through _all_ _that_ for nothing…_God_! I'll _kill_ him!"

Angela had watched this exchange quietly, and placed a gentle hand on Andy's forearm. He ripped his arm away. "What's the matter?" she asked, her tone almost mocking.

"I don't want to talk about it. Or be _here_, for that matter, around all this…_magic_," he spat. "I'm going back to the hotel. Come find me when you get back," he ordered Angela before exiting the gated patio area. "_Dammit_!" he yelled as he stormed away.

"Seriously," Michael said, now to Angela, "what the hell was he talking about?"

Angela sat down in a patio chair. "I have no idea," she replied curtly, folding her hands on the table.

* * *

Kelly was sitting on a bench with three huge shopping bags as companions, staring at the castle sadly when Darryl found her. "Hey," he said simply.

Kelly ducked her head. "I don't want to talk to you," she told him.

"Sure you do." He held out a hand. "Come on. Let's go watch the fireworks," he invited.

Kelly gave him her hand but wouldn't rise. Rolling his eyes but still grinning, he pulled her up gently and into his arms.

"You know how crazy I am 'bout you, right?" he asked her softly, his forehead on hers. Kelly couldn't hold back her smile any longer. It burst forward and spread from ear to ear.

"I know," she said, immediately chipper.

Darryl laughed and kissed her. When he pulled away he pointed to his left. "There you go. You got some romance, right in front of the castle and everything."

Kelly clapped happily and Darryl chuckled again. First taking two of her bags, he grabbed her free hand and – with a helpless shrug at the camera - allowed her to pull him off toward their reserved patio.

* * *

Holly sat down next to Michael at a far patio table. "Hi," she said as she began chipping at the white paint along the arm of the chair. Michael immediately looked nervous.

"Hey."

"Look," she began, staring into the distance, then focusing on Michael. "I know we just met a few weeks ago, and I'm not too sure about anything…else, that might be going on with you, but…"

Michael leaned forward some. "What?" he asked.

Holly smiled and leaned closer too, placing her hands on Michael's knees and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His eyes went wide and were still that way when she pulled away. "Just wanted you to know I'm here," she finished softly.

Michael was stunned, but after a long stretch of silence brought himself to nod mechanically. "Okay," he whispered, smiling at the camera first, then Holly. "Okay."

Holly grinned too. "Okay."

Kevin's loud sigh was what prompted the cameraman to pan to the right, where he found Kevin leaning against the iron gate. Having obviously seen what had just happened, he looked crestfallen. Before he could drown his sorrows in the large cup of chocolate/vanilla swirl he held, though, he was interrupted by a peck on the cheek from Meredith. "What was _that _for?" he asked as he stared at her.

Meredith shrugged. "You needed it. Don't worry about her – you can do much better," she told him. Kevin grinned at her.

"Thanks Mer," he said gratefully. Looking anxious to offer her something as well, he held out a spoonful of ice cream to her. "Want some?"

* * *

Kevin: (_near a trash can; still smiling as he dropped in his now-empty ice cream cup_) Meredith's a good friend.

* * *

Pam was still seated on the step by herself, taking no notice as Judy approached her. For a moment Judy simply watched her toy with the scrap of black leather in her hand. Judy eyed the camera, a mixture of pity and anxiety in her eyes. Before the guide could actually speak, though, an announcement came over the loud speakers.

"_Ladies and gentleman, this message is just to inform you that tonight's performance of Magic Kingdom's nighttime spectacular Wishes will begin in ten minutes…_"

As the same message played again, this time in Spanish, Judy wordlessly held out a small piece of paper to the receptionist. Pam warily eyed it.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Just read it," Judy instructed her kindly. Pam unfolded the note and quickly scanned it. Her eyes, full of confusion, found Judy's again as she shook her head slowly.

"I don't…"

"Pam, just do what it says, okay?"

Pam stood and shoved the note in her pocket, appearing dazed. "Where do I go?"

"Follow Main Street to the exit. Bear right. The monorail will take you right there." Pam bit her lips together and Judy reached out to squeeze her hand, smiling encouragingly. Pam found a timid smile of her own and without another word left. Judy kept her smile as she watched Pam go, but when she saw the cameraman starting to head after her she stepped in front of him. "No," Judy said firmly. "Please. Just give them a break, okay?"

* * *

Andy: (_outside the park gates; still fuming_) I can_not_ believe that I let Dwight get one over on me like that. For _four days_ I've been doing all these _stupid_ challenges, and for what? _Nothing_!

(_He throws his arms in the air and whatever he exclaims is bleeped out. As he does this, a flash of green topped by bouncy curls passes behind him. The camera swings to follow it as Andy continues ranting_.) I mean, I'm a smart guy, and the fact that I got shown up by _him_ – some nerdy loser? – is ridiculous…

(_The camera is still filming who it is now clear is Pam, running for the monorail station. The shot zooms in on the sign above the ramp up which she is heading, reading __**To Contemporary Resort**__. Suddenly the view shakes as if the camera was struck by something, and it swings back to Andy, who is glaring into the lens._) C'mon, man, keep the camera on me. What are you doing? (_Andy sighs and drops his eyes to the pavement; sullenly_) Least I won. Maybe I can get Ang to put out tonight. Dwight can sleep in the pool for all I care.

* * *

Hiding around a quiet corner of the castle, the camera caught Dwight seated Indian-style on the ground, playing a haunting melody on his recorder. Unnoticed, Angela rounded the far corner and stopped upon spotting Dwight. She folded her arms and listened.

Two young men passed, laughing, but looked down at Dwight as he played his song. "Nice…_The Inner Light_, right?" one asked, adjusting his glasses. Dwight just nodded and they walked away.

Finally Angela approached. "That was lovely," she said softly.

Dwight's head jerked upward and the music stopped short. His eyes went wide upon seeing the tiny blond, but soon fell back to the recorder he held. "Thank you," he accepted, turning the plastic instrument over in his hands. "It felt appropriate."

"Why?"

Dwight sighed. "I'm as lost as Picard on Kataan." Angela didn't appear to know what this meant exactly, but still took a dainty seat beside him on the curb. Dwight turned away from her. "You should be with Andy. He won."

"Yes he did," Angela agreed, not one to question the rules, "but Andy left after he found out Michael knew nothing about the challenge." Despite his misery Dwight smiled just a little, no doubt wishing he could have witnessed that. Angela reached over and tentatively took Dwight's hand. He looked at her as she continued. "And D, he won by putting _me _at risk. You didn't do that. I'm his fiancé and he just…pushed me aside. For power." Her eyes searched his. "You know I admire ambition, but that wasn't right."

Dwight shook his head. "No. It wasn't."

Angela looked down for a moment, then held her head high. "And since the competition was _really _all about me, shouldn't _I_ be allowed to make a final ruling?"

Dwight's small eyes shone with hope. "Yes."

"For now, I will stay with Andy." Dwight's expression fell some at that proclamation, but Angela squeezed his hand. "But in name only. _You_ have won my heart, Dwight…" She dropped her eyes again. "And no matter how immoral it may be, I can't be without you."

Dwight smiled, putting a hand to her cheek. "Oh Monkey," he sighed, then leaned in to press his lips to hers.

* * *

A Disney security guard had a firm hand on Creed's shoulder as he led him out of the old mine on Tom Sawyer Island. "I'm telling you, man, I'm just trying the place out for the night. I got cold, hard cash to exchange for it. Greenbacks, brother!" Creed was arguing.

"Just keep moving, pal," the guard replied.

* * *

Across the Seven Seas Lagoon, Cinderella Castle was plainly visible, lit in blues and purples. Suddenly, one bright bolt went arcing over its intricate spires, signaling the beginning of the fireworks. The accompanying music drifted across the water; a child's voice was easily heard, singing clearly and sweetly.

"_Star light, star bright  
__First star I see tonight  
__I wish I may, I wish I might  
__Have the wish I wish tonight  
__So make a wish, and do as dreamers do –  
__Then all our wishes will come true…_"

The camera turned back to capture the hotel positioned strategically on the water. From the exterior, Disney's Contemporary Resort was far from spectacular. In fact, it took little imagination to see it as a large, wedge-shaped, nondescript office building of some sort. The shot panned over the rooms whose balconies looked out on such an amazing view. A family or two was visible, and here and there was a couple, but midway through the pan the camera stopped short, and zoomed in on a particular balcony on the third floor that appeared dark and empty upon first viewing.

No lights were on in the accompanying room, but with the scene so enlarged it was now clear, with the help of the faint illumination from the fireworks, that a familiar lanky paper salesman stood there alone. He looked out at the show, lips pursed as he drummed his hands against the railing to a beat that couldn't be heard and certainly didn't match that of the spectacle's music. It was rapid, erratic. Every few seconds he looked over his shoulder, taking a step toward the open patio door, then returning to his previous spot against the railing on the far right side of the balcony.

Just then, a golden slice of light cut through the darkened room behind him. He noticed immediately and stepped back into the corner. "Jim?" Pam's voice called out tentatively. Her shadow preceded her out onto the balcony. When she reached the doorframe she placed a hand on either side, pausing for a moment to watch the fireworks. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she wrapped her arms around her middle as she took a step out.

Jim took a step out of the darkness and Pam started. "Hey," she said, resting a hand over her heart. "You scared me." She gestured around her vaguely. "What's—"

But Jim placed a finger against her lips. "Hold on a minute," he said softly, his raspy voice picked up by her microphone. He reached around to gently pull her microphone pack from the back of her shorts, then handed it to her as he carefully unclipped her microphone and fed the wire down the front of her green Dunder Mifflin t-shirt. She watched him wordlessly, an unreadable expression on her face. Once that was done, he wrapped the microphone's cord around the pack and quickly limped into the room. Pam reached up to the charm dangling from her necklace, watching not the fireworks but Jim as the music continued behind her, with Jiminy Cricket once again narrating.

"_Pretty, huh? I'll bet a lot of you folks don't believe that - about a wish coming true - do ya? Well I didn't either…of course, I'm just a cricket…"_

He emerged a moment later, then took her hands. She gazed up at him steadily as he began talking. At first his expression was serious, but a flicker of a smile passed over his face as he continued. He pulled something from his pocket as he spoke, and when he handed it to her it was clear it was the list he had shown Judy earlier in the day. Pam opened it and glanced at it, then stared up at Jim again. He broke her gaze to stare down at his shoes for a second. When he did this she smiled too, cocking her head slightly. He nodded out toward the fireworks as he began talking again, and she raised her head to look that way briefly, but almost immediately her eyes returned to meet his.

His mouth stopped moving after a minute, and he let go of one of her hands first to reach up and tenderly brush her hair from her face, then reach into his pocket again. The visible rise and fall of his chest signaled he had taken a deep breath, and Pam bit her lower lip as her chest did the same. Slowly he lowered himself to one knee. The bright blossoms of color exploding overhead highlighted the lone crystalline tear that escaped to Pam's cheek. The list fell from her hand and fluttered to the ground as she brought her hand to rest against her lips. Jim looked down again – just for an instant – then looked up at Pam.

His lips' movement was barely perceptible, but the squeeze he gave Pam's hand and the nervous smile that lit on his face as he watched her intently gave proof that he had, in fact, said _something_.

Neither of them moved for what seemed to be an eternity, then Pam moved her hand from her mouth and appeared to say something. Her eyebrow quirked as she did so, and a teasing smile spread from cheek to cheek. Jim laughed, his nervous smile turning to a genuine one of amusement, and he nodded slowly.

Pam nodded too, emphatically, and pulled on his hand to encourage him to his feet.

Jim rose, quickly swiping a hand across his eyes and fumbling with the small velvet box he'd been clutching in his free hand, but Pam took the whole box and threw her arms around him. They were both smiling as their lips met, her hands stealing into his hair and his pressed against the small of her back. They stayed locked together as their faces were washed with the colors above. When they finally parted, Jim's hands went to either side of her face, his thumbs grazing over her cheeks. His lips moved softly and they both smiled. She pressed her lips to his again. As they shared another long kiss his arms went around her middle and he lifted her off her feet and back into the room.

* * *

_You'll be in my heart  
__If you leave a review -  
__From this day on,  
__Now and forever more…  
__You'll be in my heart,  
__No matter what you say  
__You'll be here in my heart,  
Always…_


	20. Epilogue

**Author's Note: I didn't own it when I started; I don't own it when I finish. The circle of life? You decide.**

Here we go: the epilogue. Short, sweet, and summary…-y.

* * *

Michael: (_near the breakfast buffet_) Well, this is it. Heading back to Scranton in just a couple hours. Home sweet home. Has it been a good trip? (_He smiles proudly_.) It's been an _amazing _trip. Like any family we had our ups and downs while here, but that's to be expected. I gave these people a chance of a lifetime, and even if they never come right out and say it, I know how thankful they are. Let's put it this way – I'm _never _getting another oven mitt for Christmas. (_He listens to a question from off camera_.) Holly and I? Umm… (_he chuckles_) we'll just have to wait and see. We have a lot to discuss: would she be intimidated dating someone in a corporate role…I mean, more corporate than her? Is she jealous another woman loves me and is almost having my baby? (_He shrugs_.) Time will tell.

* * *

(_Holly stands near the pastries at the breakfast buffet. She simply smiles, chooses a random Danish and heads back to the table._)

* * *

Andy: (_a few feet from the table; looking glum_) The trip? So-so. I pictured a romantic getaway for my beautiful snap dragon and me; I got a week full of looking like an idiot thanks to Dwight and puking on my hat. (_He grins some_.) I _did _make him sleep outside last night. He was pretty agreeable about it too. (_He shrugs_.) Even if it was meaningless, he knows who won.

* * *

Phyllis: (_outside the restaurant; whispering excitedly_) Angela got her own room last night! She said she had a headache and couldn't do her "healing Bible study" with Meredith and I there. (_She listens for a minute, then starts to blush._) Oh, you just wanted what I thought of…oh…yes, I had a good time.

* * *

Angela: (_near the trash can in the restaurant; looking severe_) I don't know what you're talking about. I _did _have a headache. Phyllis's constant chattering and the rattling of Meredith's bottles only made it worse, so I got a separate room for the night. End of story. (_She empties her breakfast tray resolutely_.) And yes, I had a nice time. On this vacation. (_The blush rising to her pale cheeks is unmistakable as she marches off._)

* * *

The branch stood at the entrance to the resort as they waited for the Magical Express to take them to the Orlando International Airport. Toward the back of the crowd Oscar was staring at Creed strangely. "You were in Disney jail last night?" he attempted to understand. Creed nodded. "What was it like?"

Creed shook his head. "You don't wanna know, man," he told Oscar ominously.

* * *

Creed: (_on a bench_) Back in the sixties I spent a lot of time in holding cells after 'Nam protests. (_He shakes his head again_.) Those things were _palaces _in comparison. I'm gonna blog the whole experience when I get back, so be sure and check that out.

* * *

Judy looked over her soon-to-be-former charges as they waited, gracing them with a bright smile. "I hope you all had a great time this week," she said, and was answered by a chorus of yeses and nods. "I did too," she told them. Stanley, at her left, gave a soft snicker as he eyed her. She shrugged, still smiling, albeit sheepishly now. "It was definitely a lot of new experiences," she amended her previous statement.

"That's one way of putting it," Stanley replied.

* * *

Stanley: (_near the resort entrance, Stanleying_) Of course Judy thought we were all right. For her, we're just a bad dream. She's lucky enough to be able to wake up.

* * *

Soon after the bus arrived. Once the luggage was loaded the branch began climbing aboard, Judy standing at the door to say goodbye to each of them. When it was Kevin's turn Judy smiled a little more than she had for Meredith, who had muttered a "buzz kill" at her after her goodbye. "Bye Judy," Kevin said, looking a bit sad and hesitantly putting out his hand. Judy took it warmly.

"Bye Kevin. Hope you had a great time." Kevin nodded, standing there a moment. Before he boarded, Judy patted his back. "Keep that Indy hat around," she added quietly, giving him a wink. "It looks good."

Kevin said nothing, but shined a lascivious grin camera-ward before climbing the steps.

Dwight was next. Judy, perhaps subconsciously, took a half step backward, and clasped her hands behind her back. "Goodbye Dwight," she offered. Dwight nodded.

"Judy," he said diplomatically. The two shared an awkward silence with no end in sight, but Dwight ushered it away by holding out his hand. "This has been an enjoyable time. You are…competent," he offered, clearly feeling generous.

Judy went wide-eyed, no doubt more touched by such ambiguous praise than she would have been five days ago. "Really?" she asked before she could check it. "I mean thank you. You…are, too."

Dwight smirked, "Duh," he spat before boarding the bus.

Finally there was Michael, who was looking around. "Everything okay, Michael?" Judy asked. Michael frowned.

"Where are Jim and Pam?" he wondered. Judy bit her lip.

"Oh, just running late I guess. I can help them rearrange their flight—"

"_You _know where they are," Michael interrupted, looking coy. Judy eyed the camera nervously.

"…What?"

Michael looked at the camera as well. "Bow chicka _bow bow_," he said, throwing in a hip thrust or two for good measure. Judy, looking relieved, simply shrugged. When Michael finished with his insinuation he looked at the tour guide, his eyes quickly growing misty.

"It's been a great week," he mused, and Judy smiled.

"Thank you—"

"Not just for us, but for _you_. I feel like I've helped you become a great leader. Well, _better_ leader, anyway," Michael continued, rocking on his heels. "You're a little like Ryan, Judy. I've shared what I know with you, helped you to grow, and left you to follow in my footsteps on your own. Just…just stay away from drugs. And corporate fraud."

Judy, Disney through and through, didn't question this as she gave him a friendly grin. "I'll do my best," she assured him. Michael nodded, a tear escaping as he squeezed her shoulder. He ascended the stairway, but at the top step he turned and gave the complex at large a wave. "Goodbye Disney!" he called out, his voice strained. "Scranton has left the building!"

The door shut behind him. Judy gave the bus a wave as it pulled away, then sighed as she wandered off.

* * *

Judy: (_on a bench; holding a cigarette and looking contemplative_) It has been a…week. I felt like I was in a Christopher Guest movie most of the time, you know? I just hope to God that whenever this footage airs this little interview isn't followed by a scene of me running a store that specializes in _My Dinner With Andre _action figures or recording an album dedicated to terriers six months from now. (_She takes a drag; on exhale_) I think once my bosses see what I dealt with it'll be okay, but you never know. (_She smiles._) If I'm gonna get fired, I have one thing to say: _High School Musical _is of the devil. (_She takes a deep breath, as if she has just had a great weight lifted off her, then stands and tosses her butt in the ash tray. Just as she is about to walk away, she is clearly stopped by a question from off-camera. She grins again._) What makes you think I know anything about Jim and Pam? (_Her eyes twinkle_.) Or should I say, "Mr. and Mrs. Ross Geller?" (_She glances at her watch, then looks up._) But be kind – it's only ten o'clock.

* * *

At first the shot was only of a deep brown door in a cream colored hallway, the number **323 **displayed on a sleek silver plate. Then Steve, the DP, stepped into the shot, knocking tentatively as the boom mike dipped near his head and was pushed into the doorjamb. Steve looked somewhere behind the camera questioningly as the sensitive microphone picked up snippets from inside the room.

"…it's room service?"

"Hope…starving."

What sounded like footsteps nearing the door, then a soft female laugh.

Quite clearly: "We've been discovered."

A lower, raspy voice, just as clearly: "Dammit."

Footsteps retreating, then nothing. Another snippet, this one from the female voice: "…least…them a note."

All was silent again, and Steve grimaced. Suddenly, though, the door opened a good foot or so. There stood Pam, clad in a cushy white bathrobe with her hair a red bird's nest. She held up her left hand, now sporting a diamond ring that was almost as bright as the smile she wore. Behind her stood a shirtless Jim, his right arm wrapped around Pam's waist while the left held out a slip of paper to Steve. "Thanks," Steve said, surprised. The camera managed to catch the black leather bracelet snapped around Jim's wrist as he and Pam waved and shut the door again.

The camera filmed Steve as read the note. With a chuckle he held it out.

In Jim's rushed printing:  
**We're staying a few extra days. (Thanks Judy.) See you Wednesday.**

And tacked on, in Pam's even hand:  
**YES, he did kick my ass.**

* * *

**A/N Pt. II: **I know I haven't written any great masterpiece here, but this turned in to…so much more than I _ever _anticipated. A few months ago I just thought it'd be cute to send the Scranton branch on a trip to the Happiest Place on Earth. I hoped a few people would read and enjoy it. Now, over 300 reviews and 20 chapters full of madness later, I'm not only amazed but, like, dorkily emotional that it's all over.

If you'll allow me, I have a few thank you's to issue…first, to all of you that read and reviewed. Holy _crap_, guys. You're _crazy_, and I mean that in the _nicest_ way possible. From those of you that started with me two months ago to those that have plowed through the whole thing in the last few days (I can't believe it held up!), thanks a lot. I've responded to all of my signed reviews, but to those that review "anonymously" – (deep breath) officejam, gracie, Kelly, Jessica, youngforeternity, Camille, Audrey, paperairplanes, jameswalrus, Sue, Sara, Dee, KGX2001, Holly, ibcutie09, blackbird23 and Tuttle – your kind words are just as appreciated.

A special thanks to ktface3, who is a constant source of inspiration, encouragement and support. It's because of your enthusiasm for the idea months ago that I ever started it! Next, to HalloweenJack138 - you contributed some of the _best _material imaginable. Thank you for sharing your genius and taking this wacky trip with me. I'm honored to call you a reader. You, sir, are the best. Hands down. (Aside from Mr. Beets, who deserves more thanks than I could say, but I know you're okay with that ruling.) And the Fo Sho Kate, aka Katja – you are my favorite bitch. All praise due. Thanks for your help and glowing, if mocking of others, reviews (which you know I adore). Love you!

So in closing, the words of Jiminy Cricket as he wraps up the _Wishes _fireworks: "Thanks, folks, for making this little gathering of ours so extra magical. And from our family and friends to yours, may _all_ your wishes come true. So long!"

_Now it's time to say goodbye  
__To the DM company –  
__M-I-C-  
__(See you real soon!)  
__K-E-Y…  
__(Why? 'Cause I have more stories for you!)  
__M-O-U-S-E…_


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